Year-Round DST and Year-Based COVID What Ifs
Table of Contents
Introduction
This is my second and final spring break post. In this post, I plan on catching up with a few topics that I don't have time to discuss during teaching time, but only now during vacation time.
And we begin with my biannual Daylight Saving Time post. I know, this post is late since it's been two weeks since we set the clocks forward. But this post is timed perfectly for Europe, where clocks will be set forward to Summer Time tonight. But the focus in this post isn't on Europe, but on the US, where the Senate has just passed a bill allowing for Year-Round Summer Time in 2023.
As I've mentioned in the past, I don't have any problem with the biannual clock change, but if we're to keep a single clock Year-Round, then it should be DST. Thus I voted for Proposition 7 here in California, and I favor the current Senate bill.
But what exactly should Year-Round DST look like? Let's look at some advocates of Year-Round DST to see what should happen next year, and to address any objections to the new time.
Scott Yates and the 110-95-80 Plan
We start with Scott Yates, who is one of the foremost advocates of Year-Round DST. He strongly supports the bill, with one catch:
https://www.sco.tt/time/2022/03/fix-daylight-saving-time-forever.html
This is great news!!! (If I was not running for Congress on a promised to fix Daylight Saving Time, this would be unequivocally great news. It still is great, but it does complicate my message just a bit. It’s OK, I’ll get that part figured out.)
That's right -- he had just announced a Congress bid. Well, I'll let him "get that part figured out" as he tells us in this post. Right now I want to focus on Year-Round DST itself.
Notice that the new bill extends DST into the winter -- the summer clock will not change. The main problem is that sunrise will be especially late near the summer solstice:
But it is a legitimate question, and one that needs to be considered, especially in some states that lie on the western edge of their time zones.
And thus Yates suggests that if the bill passes, the final winter of Standard Time (2022-23) should be used for people in certain states to decide whether to go along with the national DST plan:
Legislators in states like Indiana, Michigan, Kentucky, and Tennessee, as well as North and South Dakota, Nebraska and Kansas all pay close attention all year to what the sunrises and sunsets could and should be. Permanent Standard time will still give them plenty of late sun in the summer, but will make mornings a bit less dark, and allow them to unify in a single time zone over those whole states, which are all split in two right now.
In other words, if it's decided that winter sunrise is too late in certain states, then those states should adopt Year-Round Standard Time instead. New time zones will be drawn to ensure that winter sunrise isn't too late in each time zone.
Now I forget whether it was Yates or another pro-DST author who suggested the following idea for the names of the new time zones. Names such as "Pacific Daylight Time" will become awkward when there is no longer a biannual clock change. Instead, since we are setting the clocks forward and keeping them forward forever, the new time zones should have names such as "Pacific Forward Time," "Mountain Forward Time," and so on. So now we must decide which states will be part of the new time zones with "Forward" in their names.
For starters, states that already don't have a biannual time change should keep their original clocks. And so Arizona, which is currently part of the Mountain Time Zone but doesn't have DST, should keep its clock, thus making it part of the new Pacific Forward Time. So Arizona will join the West Coast states in the new time zone.
On the old blog, I once pointed out that geographically speaking, the Lower 48 States all fit between the 65th and 125th meridians west. And time zones are supposed to span 15 degrees of longitude. Thus the 60 degrees of longitude spanned by the states can be made to fit into four new time zones:
- Pacific Forward Time (UTC-7): 125W-110W
- Mountain Forward Time (UTC-6): 110-95W
- Central Forward Time (UTC-5): 95W-80W
- Eastern Forward Time (UTC-4): 80W-65W
So let's make these the new Forward Time Zones and see which states end up in which time zones. To help us, here's a link to a map of the US with state borders and longitude lines shown:
https://kappamapgroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/1500830.jpg
Let's start with Pacific Forward Time. The states of California, Oregon, and Washington should all implement Year-Round DST to join Pacific Forward Time. Technically speaking, the eastern border of Arizona lies right around 109W rather than 110W. But since Arizona is currently on Pacific Forward Time anyway, it should keep it.
Passing through Four Corners, the eastern border of Arizona becomes the eastern border of Utah, and so Utah should keep Year-Round Standard Time to join Pacific Forward Time. The same is true of Idaho, which is completely west of the 110th meridian.
That leaves us with Wyoming and Montana. The 110th meridian splits these states, and so the plan recommends that the western parts of these states join Pacific Forward Time while the eastern parts of these states join Mountain Forward Time.
While we might extend the 109th meridian northward from the eastern border of Utah to become the new time zone border, the original 110th meridian is actually a border in Canada -- it separates the provinces of Alberta to the west and Saskatchewan to the east. So we might prefer to extend the provincial border southward rather than the Utah border northward
When all is said and done, the new Pacific Forward Time Zone will include the states of Arizona, California, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, and Washington, and the western parts of Montana and Wyoming.
We now move on to Mountain Forward Time. The map shows that several states have their eastern borders near the 95th meridian -- Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, and the Dakotas. This suggests that these states should adopt Year-Round Standard Time to join Mountain Forward Time. Indeed, Scott Yates mentions four of these states earlier in his post.
This tells us that the new Mountain Forward Time Zone will include most of Montana and Wyoming (the eastern parts), all of Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and the Dakotas, and perhaps the very western edges of Iowa and Minnesota (which are slightly west of the 95th meridian).
As for Central Forward Time, the 80th meridian is a bit tricky. Notice that it's not as important to avoid dividing states as it is to avoid dividing metro areas, to avoid commuters having to live and work in different time zones. Two cities -- Pittsburgh, PA and Charleston, SC -- lie right on the 80th meridian, and so strictly adhering to the 80th meridian would divide those cities into two time zones.
Several states lie completely between the 80th and 95th meridians, and so the following states, at least in theory, should unambiguously be part of Central Forward Time. These states include Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Michigan, Mississippi, Ohio, Tennessee, and Wisconsin. Most of Missouri lies in this range as well. Four of these states are already included in the list above from Scott Yates.
Notice the presence of Florida on this list. Yes, Florida lies completely west of the 80th meridian (just barely missing Palm Beach). This means that, at least in theory, Florida should adopt Year-Round Standard Time and join Central Forward Time.
But the original sponsor of the Year-Round DST bill was Senator Marco Rubio of Florida. Because Florida is so far south, late winter sunrises wouldn't really a problem in that state. And so, in deference to the sponsor of the bill, Florida should adopt Year-Round DST and join Eastern Forward Time. And likewise, to avoid Florida becoming a time zone island, Georgia should join Eastern Forward Time, as should all of South Carolina, the 80th meridian passing through Charleston notwithstanding. (Another prominent anti-clock change advocate, Sheila Danzig, is also a Floridian, although she does prefer Year-Round Standard Time for her home state.)
As we move farther north, late winter sunrise may become a problem, and so we probably should stick closer to the 80th meridian. This meridian divides both Carolinas and both Virginias. It's possible that these states might all choose Eastern Forward Time, in order to avoid two states having similar names being placed in different time zones, and because they are far enough south to avoid late winter sunrise.
That leaves us with Pittsburgh, PA. Notice that most of Pennsylvania lies east of the 80th meridian and so should be Eastern Forward Time, and so Pittsburgh might wish to join the rest of its state. But still, the Steel City is far enough north that late winter sunrise might become a problem there.
At any rate, the four current Eastern Standard Time states mentioned by Yates (Indiana, Michigan, Kentucky, Tennessee) should all choose Central Forward Time. The entire Northeast Corridor becomes Eastern Forward Time (as the entire corridor lies east of the 80th meridian).
The Author of the Lunisolar Modified Gregorian Calendar
I know that this isn't the time of the year that I usually discuss Calendar Reform. So I shouldn't discuss the Lunisolar Modified Gregorian Calendar. This calendar keeps the current 12 months but changes it so that they alternate between 30 and 31 days, and replaces the 7-day week with a 5-day week:
https://calendars.fandom.com/wiki/Luni-solar_Modified_Gregorian_Calendar
The reason I'm mentioning this calendar now is that there's a proposal for Year-Round DST buried near the bottom of this link:
Most people don't like daylight saving time because it interferes with schedules and circadian rhythms. It's also different in different parts of the world, and even at opposite times of year in the Southern Hemisphere. The fact that the time changes at different places at different times makes it hard to keep track of time zone differences. It would just be easier not to have daylight saving time changes. On the other hand, most people like having a little extra daylight in the evenings. So the author of this calendar proposes to get rid of daylight saving time, and to redefine the time zones so that there is more light in the evenings year round in the redefined areas.
Some time zones are already defined this way, such as the province of Saskatchewan in Canada, and Iceland. They do not observe daylight saving time, yet they enjoy the benefit of having more daylight in the evenings because of the time zone that they have chosen to reside in. Solar noon in these areas is closer to 1 PM than 12 PM but that's the price that they pay and the author of this calendar doesn't think they are unhappier for it. There are drawbacks to doing this, mainly that morning commutes are made more difficult in the winter, especially in snow and ice. But not all areas would be affected by my proposal, and of the people who are affected, the ones with enough flexibliity would just go into work late in the winter.
Like Scott Yates, this (anonymous) author also proposes keeping Year-Round Standard Time in places where late winter sunrise becomes a problem. Perhaps confusingly, he calls the new time zone that comprises California and Arizona "Mountain Time" whereas I call it "Pacific Forward Time" (even though both names refer to UTC-7). For the sake of this post, I'll convert his time zone names to my equivalent "Forward Time Zone" names.
Then the author's time zones are similar to mine, except that his extend perhaps a little more east (that is, he allows Year-Round Standard Time in more areas than Yates or I do). His Pacific Forward Time includes all of Montana and Wyoming, and even western Colorado (the home state of Yates). His Mountain Forward Time includes parts of Arkansas and Missouri. (He mentions placing a time zone at "the least populated areas" in order to avoid splitting metro areas.) And his Central Forward Time includes West Virginia and most of Virginia (and presumably states further south, including all of Sen. Rubio's Florida). He specifically mentions Pittsburgh (one of my cities of concern) as staying in Central Forward Time, with Eastern Forward Time only in eastern Pennsylvania (and states farther north).
This author also mentions how his time zones can cover the entire world, not just the US. In Canada, all of his time zone borders are also provincial borders. And he recommends Year-Round DST for the UK (Goodbye Greenwich Mean Time!) and a few other European countries.
Once again, we'll see how the various states react to the Year-Round DST proposal. It's possible that more states might select Year-Round DST (closer to my proposal) or perhaps more might choose Standard Time (closer to the Lunisolar author's proposal).
Year-Round DST and School Start Times
A major concern with Year-Round DST is school start times. As a teacher, of course school schedules are important to me. The fear is that in the winter, school might start well before sunrise. This is why parents of young children often oppose Year-Round DST and prefer Year-Round Standard Time instead, especially in the north.
But there are places in the north where Year-Round DST has already been implemented. One of these is the Canadian province of Saskatchewan (specifically mentioned in the Lunisolar author's post). Based on its longitude, Saskatchewan ought to be in the Mountain Time Zone, but instead it's in Central Time Zone, with no DST. Thus the province already observes the equivalent of Mountain Forward Time.
And so Saskatchewan already deals with late winter sunrise. So let's take a look at what school schedules look like in the province. We'll start with Regina, the provincial capital:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1LD0zEKhVTRWDZ7-dXyR8OWxqmJdGHMpZ/view
According to the link, most elementary schools in the capital start at 8:52. And a sunrise/sunset website reveals that sunrise is just before 9:00 on the day of the winter solstice. Thus we see that elementary schools start near sunrise at the solstice (and well after sunrise away from the solstice).
High schools, meanwhile, tend to start around 8:30. While this is a bit before winter sunrise, it's implicitly assumed that teenagers can handle the dark better than younger children can. Since school times must be staggered (to accommodate bus schedules), the priority is to make sure that elementary school children have sunlight on the way to school in the winter.
Instead, the high school start time of 8:30 in Regina agrees with the new California law, which states that high schools should start no earlier than 8:30. This new time is said to accommodate adolescent sleeping needs.
But even though Regina is the capital of Saskatchewan, it's not the largest city in the province. Instead, that honor goes to Saskatoon. It's located northwest of the capital -- and both "north" and "west" contribute to an earlier winter sunrise in Saskatoon. So when do schools start there?
Unfortunately, I couldn't find a single page for Saskatoon start times, similar to Regina above. But I was able to find a Catholic school that starts at 9:00 and a public school that starts at 9:05 -- thus matching the later winter sunrise times in that city.
The westernmost city in Saskatchewan is Lloydminster -- indeed, its territory actually straddles the border with the neighboring province Alberta. Its time zone matches Alberta's, which is Mountain Time with a biannual DST switch. I found an elementary school in Lloydminster that starts at 8:30 -- but notice that this is the time of winter sunrise in Alberta (which would be 9:30 Saskatchewan time).
Notice that both my proposal and the Lunisolar author's recommend Year-Round Standard Time for Alberta as well. This would be Pacific Forward Time. Thus the Alberta-Saskatchewan border would remain the border between Pacific Forward and Mountain Forward Time. Lloydminster would remain right on the time zone border. It's recommended that the town remain in Alberta's time zone, since its school schedule is already set up for it.
(By the way, in some ways Kansas City is similar to Lloydminster -- there exist Kansas City, MO and Kansas City, KS, and our proposal assigned Mountain Forward Time to Kansas and Central Forward Time to Missouri. Unlike Lloydminster, KCK and KCMO are two separate cities, but they're still one metro area, and so we still wouldn't want it to lie in two time zones. Most likely, Kansas City will end up like Lloydminster -- the entire metro area would choose Mountain Forward Time, while the rest of Missouri would choose Central Forward.)
Anyway, any northern state that adopts Year-Round DST and thus has a later sunrise in winter can adopt Saskatchewan's bell schedules. In no state (except parts of Alaska) will the winter sunrise be later than Saskatchewan's under my proposed time zones, and so every state should be able to use that province's bell schedules without too much worry of kids being out in the morning darkness.
But What About Circadian Rhythms?
Some people oppose Year-Round DST because they claim that DST is much less in accord with our bodies' circadian rhythm. But if this is true, then what clock is most in harmony with natural cycles? In addition, the high school start time of 8:30 is supposed to be in accord with a teenager's circadian rhythm, but does "8:30" in this context mean 8:30 Standard Time or 8:30 Forward Time?
Here 8:30, of course, refers to numbers on a clock. It's assumed that "natural circadian rhythms" here refer not to numbers on a clock, but to the day-night cycle. In other words, the schedule most in accord with our natural cycles is one that has us waking up close to sunrise and going to bed close to sunset.
The reason for the biannual clock change is that "sunrise" is different between summer and winter. It might be the case that a biannual clock change is best-suited for our circadian rhythms, since changing the clock allows us to wake up near sunrise in both summer and winter. But it's also stated that having a day of 23 or 25 hours (such as on the day of a clock change) also disrupts the circadian cycle -- and its affects last not just for one day, but perhaps a week or even more.
Perhaps having a 23- or 25-hour day is a small price to pay (as far as our natural cycle is concerned) to be able to wake up near sunrise in both summer and winter. But for the sake of argument, we'll assume that it isn't -- any benefit of waking near sunrise in two seasons is outweighed by the disruption caused by the clock change. Thus the optimal circadian schedule has a single year-round clock -- it just remains to determine whether that single clock is Standard or Forward Time.
We just showed above how school start times can be made to fall after sunrise, even in the north, in the winter, under Forward Time. But no matter how light it is at the first bell, it would be even lighter if the clocks were set to Standard Time. This would suggest that the critics are right -- that Standard Time really is superior to Forward Time. But to see why I believe that Forward Time is superior, we must look not just as sunrise times, but sunset times as well.
And it also goes back to that same question -- what exactly does "8:30" mean, as far as our circadian rhythms are concerned. Put it another way, 8:30 Forward Time is the same as 7:30 Standard Time. A teen's body is already set to Forward Time in the summer. But if "8:30" Forward Time is optimal, then what's wrong with starting school at 7:30 Standard Time in the winter in California (if that's already 8:30 "body time" on the day of the time change in November)?
The only logical answer is that "8:30" must have another meaning independent of sunrise and sunset -- that it has some sort of meaning in our social world, so that it's better for teens to start high school at 8:30 than 7:30 for that reason. And I claim that it does.
People do things in our world based on what time it says on the clock. We work (as Dolly Parton reminds us) from 9 to 5. Stores are open long enough so people can shop after work. People walk their dogs when they come home from work. Primetime TV comes on a number of hours after work. And while most teens don't have jobs, their schedules revolve around adult work schedules, since they can only shop when stores are open, watch TV when shows are on, play high school football when adults are able to attend the games, and so on.
Thus, for example, "8:30" means (assuming primetime ends at 10:00) ten and a half hours after the last primetime show airs. It means ten and a half hours after most stores have closed. It means ten and a half hours after (hopefully) they've finished their homework, and so on. And so when we say that high school should start at 8:30, it means ten and a half hours after the world has shut down -- enough time for the teens to sleep and be alert the next morning in class.
And thus what fits the circadian rhythm the best is for the sunlight to match the hours that most people are awake, according to the daily working schedule. Under Standard Time, the summer sun rises at 5 AM or earlier, before most people wake up (when our bodies don't need circadian cues to wake up), and the winter sun sets at 5 PM or earlier (when our bodies don't need circadian cues to go to sleep). But Forward time makes the summer sun rise closer to the time when people wake up to go to work, and makes the winter sun set, well, maybe not close to bedtime (which would be possible), but at least with enough time for adults to come home from work and students to come home from afterschool activities.
And here's the clincher to my argument -- there are only a few places in the north (where sunrise and sunset times are most extreme) where the clocks currently don't change. The Lunisolar author already mentioned two such places -- Saskatchewan and Iceland. Another such country is Russia (and yes, I know there's a war going on there now). All three northern locales have a single Year-Round clock -- and all three places converged on Forward Time as the proper clock to use the whole year. Despite the winter sun rising late in all three countries, all three of those places have decided that Forward Time is the best clock for their citizens to work, rest, and play on. Forward Time matches our waking and working hours the best, and so these three countries chose Forward Time, not Standard Time, as the single clock to use year-round.
That settles it! The single clock most in accord with our circadian rhythms and daily activities is Forward Time. And that's why I voted for Prop 7 here in California, and that's why I support the current Senate bill. Except for those specific places mentioned in this post where Standard Time might be better, most places would be better off adopting the new Forward time zones.
What-If? COVID-91 and COVID-93
OK, that's enough about Year-Round DST. Let's get back to the COVID What If? stories -- what if the pandemic had occurred back when I was younger? This continues the stories I wrote back during Thanksgiving break and extends them into the n+3 year.
In the real world, I tested positive for COVID-19 on February 2nd, Groundhog Day. That date is a bit interesting to me. Two years earlier, I caught a cold that lasted a very long time, through December 2019 and January 2020, finally subsiding around Super Bowl Sunday (which was also February 2nd that year). Now I wonder whether I'd caught COVID that year (being among the earliest to catch the disease) and never knew it. Then exactly two years later, I definitely caught COVID.
Also, in the real world, recall that prior to the pandemic, I'd run two miles a week on Saturdays. But once COVID-19 started, I've cut back to one mile, especially during school weeks. That's because I often find myself sneezing after a long run, and I don't this to be mistaken for COVID. I still want to stay in shape though, so I decided that it was best to cut back the run rather than skip it entirely.
Anyway, on February 1st, I was assigned a class to cover during first period conference. (I never wrote this on the blog, since it occurred on a odd day, hence a non-blogging day.) The class I covered turned out to be PE, which is definitely rare for me to cover these days. Here in California, only two years of PE are needed to graduate, and most students complete these in grades 9-10. The only students who need PE at my high school (that currently has only juniors and seniors) are those who received F's and must make up the class, or those who decide to take it as an elective. With so few students in PE, a teacher comes from the main high school to teach just one period of it -- but that one period just happens to me first period, one of my off periods. So on a day he was out, I was asked to cover it.
And it's been my tradition to participate in any PE class that I sub for. This goes all the back to the earliest days of my old blog (though I didn't mention it on the blog until years later), when I worked out with the students at a certain continuation high school. I believe that those students -- some of whom had criminal records -- respected me more than most other subs because I worked out with them. And so to this day I stretch and jog a lap with any PE class I cover.
OK, so I worked out with PE class on February 1st -- and then tested positive on February 2nd. And so, after cutting my Saturday workouts for over a year to avoid showing cold symptoms during COVID, I foolishly worked out hard one day and tested positive for COVID the next day! Who knows -- perhaps I really was positive for COVID, but it could have been triggered by the hard workout.
Anyway, here in our COVID What Ifs? let's assume that I test positive for COVID on February 2nd of the n+3 year in each world. So in the world of COVID-86, I test positive on February 2nd, 1989, during my second grade year. In all What Ifs? I return to school on February 8th -- the day I returned in 2022.
Now let's look at the next two What If? years -- COVID-91 and COVID-93. Even though each COVID What If? takes place in its own universe, I prefer avoid having these What Ifs? overlap. So in order to have both COVID-91 and COVID-93, the length of the pandemic must be less than two years, so that the pandemic in COVID-91 ends before the pandemic in COVID-93 begins.
But in reality, pandemics don't "end" -- they become endemic, like the flu. What we need, then, is for the real COVID-19 pandemic to become endemic by the two-year mark, so that "normal school" is in session two years after normality disappeared.
By that definition, the pandemic began on Pi Day 2020 -- the day when the schools closed. Now two years later marked a milestone -- Pi Day 2022, the first day that we attended school without masks. An argument can be made that "things are back to normal" now that we don't need masks, and so COVID is really now in the endemic stage.
But of course, this is inexact. Some kids continue to wear masks, especially in my fourth period. And with a new variant out there, testing will continue. Students and staff alike are asked to self-test either tonight or tomorrow before returning, and schoolwide testing will take place on Wednesday. The fear is that many people will catch COVID during spring break.
(Even before the pandemic, some teachers noticed that after almost every holiday break, a group of students would return with colds. It would happen almost like clockwork. Indeed, it makes me wonder whether on Calendar Reform, we should have no weeklong breaks for winter or spring. As tough as that seems, no breaks means no cold outbreaks. But I digress.)
If the full pandemic stretches into a third year, then we can't have both COVID-91 and COVID-93. But I like both of those What If? stories. COVID-91 looks good because 91 is just 19 reversed, and moreover, 1991 and 2019 are 28 years apart, so dates fall on the same day of the week in both years. As for COVID-93, that story has the schools on Pi Day of my seventh grade year and reopen for hybrid during my eighth grade year. The intent is for this to match the middle school students I taught during my long-term position last year (as the purpose of What If? is for me to empathize with my students).
For now, let's just say that the pandemic is "over" when the mask mandate ends. So the last day of school in the COVID-91 world was Pi Day Eve, 1992 (a Friday!) in fifth grade. Hybrid learning takes up much of my sixth grade year. In seventh grade, I catch COVID on Groundhog Day, 1994 (a Wednesday!) -- since schools started after Labor Day back then, this was during the first week of the second semester. I had two new classes that semester, Science (a one-semester course back then) and Computers (part of an Exploratory Wheel). And the first day without masks is on Pi Day (a Monday!), and this marks the end of the COVID-91 What If? story.
Then that same day marks the start of the pandemic in the COVID-93 world. (On the old blog, I wrote about those same Science and Computer classes, and what those classes would look like on the day that schools close and switch to "distance learning.") Hybrid learning takes up much of my eighth grade year in this world. As a freshman (in my new district), I catch COVID on Groundhog Day 1996, also at the start of second semester (but all of my freshman classes were yearlong). And the first day without masks is on Pi Day.
If the COVID-19 pandemic extends beyond today (that is, if something major happens at my school, such as an outbreak and the reestablishment of a mask mandate), then we must extend either one of these What Ifs, COVID-91 or COVID-93, but not both. It seems most logical to make COVID-93 defunct and keep only COVID-86, COVID-91, COVID-96. None of these What Ifs should overlap each other (unless the mask mandate extends beyond the five-year mark).
What If? COVID-96
In COVID-96, the schools close on Pi Day of my sophomore year, distance learning extends into junior year, and I catch COVID on Groundhog Day of my senior year. This What If? was chosen in order to line up with the experiences of my current students, most of whom are seniors.
So what does senior year look like for my current students? I've heard that, unlike the Classes of 2020 and 2021 who were shocked when their senior activities were cancelled, many 22'ers are expecting (almost) to have nothing this year, and will be pleasantly surprised when things happen. Right now, we have a Prom scheduled for the fourth weekend in April, as well as a Grad Night scheduled as Disney's California Adventure. The graduation will be in-person, though it will take place at the flagship high school rather than our campus.
Notice that in 1999 on the original timeline, I attended neither Prom nor Grad Night. Indeed, I often point out on the blog that in many ways, my "real" graduation was from the eighth grade, since that year I participated in more end-of-year activities, including Disneyland. (Notice that on COVID-93 -- the only active What If? extending into eighth grade -- that year is an n+2 year like 2021, not 2022, and so there is no Disneyland trip on that timeline.)
Recall that on the old blog, I devoted several posts to COVID-97 and started following the Cross Country and Track teams to imagine what my participation on those teams look like in COVID-97. But now that I've switched it to COVID-96, that story needs to be adjusted. Now the fractured XC season that takes place in the spring is now my junior year. A regular fall XC season takes place in my senior year, and the current Track season corresponds to senior year track.
During Thanksgiving break, I wrote that in COVID-96, enough of my teammates choose to drop XC to place me in the Top 9 on my team, hence making me an alternate for Varsity. And I wrote that as a senior alternate, I run in the CIF Prelims race, which becomes the last three-mile race of my career. Of course, some readers might argue that, who's to say that I wouldn't have been one of the runners to quit the team, as opposed to a beneficiary of other runners quitting?
Well, on the COVID-96 timeline, I will say that I do quit the team -- the Track team, not XC. This is consistent with the idea that I catch COVID on Groundhog Day -- a month before Track starts. When I return to school on February 8th, I tell my coach that for health reasons, it's best that I stay off the team.
I've already met the PE requirement (two years in California, if you recall) and so I don't need Track to graduate, but students in my magnet program must take seven classes per semester. (This is assuming, of course, that I even enter the magnet -- on the original timeline, I join the magnet during November of my junior year, but this is during full distance learning under COVID-96.)
I've seen loopholes where some runners, particularly seniors who have been with the program for four years, are allowed to drop Track, yet keep it on their bell schedule. They hang around the team and may even join the team to record the times or set up the meet. So it's possible that I might be allowed to do the same if I quit in COVID-96.
Otherwise the magnet would force me to add a seventh period -- once again, this is right around the start of second semester. There aren't that many one-semester classes for me to add -- non-magnet students might have a semester of Government, but I was currently taking AP Government. It's also possible that my seventh period could be something like teacher aide.
There are two COVID What Ifs? left to consider -- COVID-08 and COVID-14. I mentioned earlier that in our COVID-08 story, I complete Student Teaching during fall of the n+1 year, and then be hired to teach, maybe even at the same school, for fall of the n+2 year, corresponding to being hired at my current school during COVID-19. But then I must also add in the pink slip that I received two weeks ago on the original timeline, and state that this school must also pink-slip me during COVID-08 (especially considering that this is during the tail end of the Great Recession as well).
Or is it possible for me to avoid a pink slip here? When I got my pink slip in real life, I learned that years spent as a sub in a district actually count towards seniority. On the original timeline, I've never worked in my current district until this year, and so I have no seniority. But the school where I was a student teacher is in LAUSD -- and yes, I was a sub in LAUSD prior to student teaching.
And so it's possible that I would have had enough seniority to avoid a pink slip in COVID-08. Then I would be able to keep my job at that school beyond the n+3 year (that is, 2011).
Seniority isn't a problem in the COVID-14 timeline. That year, I was working at the old charter school during the n+3 year (2017). This is the only COVID What If? that takes place after I started blogging -- while I didn't post on Groundhog Day that year, I do have posts dated February 3rd and 6th. So you can read the old blog right now to see what days I would have missed after testing positive.
Recall that I had a very tough February that year, which caused me to leave that school in March. Is it possible that, with a COVID break from February 2nd-7th, I might have been able to survive that tough month and lasted beyond March? Again, I'm not sure -- most of the toughest days in February were after the 7th. But since you can read those old posts now, I'll let you be the judge -- is there a way I could have lasted there past March?
Actually, I'm looking at those old posts right now. On February 8th, I had trouble when some of my eighth graders were playing around during a science project. But those same kids had taken a quiz the previous Friday -- a quiz that might have been delayed to the 8th, the day of my return, if I'd been out due to COVID. Then without the science project, eighth grade might not have been messing around -- and maybe this would have been the first step towards a happier February and enduring past March.
My Plans for April
In my previous post, I wrote much about my Ethnostats and Trig classes, mainly due to the finals that I forced myself to write before blogging. So it's been some time since I wrote about Calculus. My plans for that class are critical, since I must get these students prepared for the AP Exam.
Last week was the first week of Chapter 6, on Applications of Integration. We covered Section 6.1 on Tuesday, "More About Areas." On St. Patrick's Day, I gave an activity where students are supposed to mold solids of revolution using Play-Doh -- an activity I found on Twitter. Julie Reulbach is the originator of this activity, and I found the Play-Doh when our former history teacher left of school and gave away many of her old things in her classroom:
https://twitter.com/jreulbach/status/1494393924064092161
In class, I called it the "Plato" Activity instead of Play-Doh. Of course, Plato was an ancient Greek mathematician who studied three-dimensional solids and their volumes.
Next week, I plan on covering Section 6.2 on volumes (the disc method) and then giving the students the Chapter 6 Quiz at the end of the week. The students might struggle on this quiz due to the fractured nature of this chapter with spring break, but it will be a short quiz (six questions), and they'll have the benefit of quiz corrections the following Monday (the monthly minimum day for April).
Then the next two weeks will be for finishing Chapter 6. Not all of this chapter will be tested on the Calculus AB Exam, and so I'll have to jump among the text, AP Classroom, and DeltaMath to make sure that they get the material they need. The Chapter 6 Test will be given just before Easter -- and there will be no test corrections allowed for this test. (The monthly minimum day will have already passed, and as we get closer to the AP Exam, the students need to be able to pass tests on their first attempt.)
The last two weeks of April will be for covering Chapter 7 on differential equations. Only Sections 7.1 through 7.3 are needed for AB, and so we should only need those two weeks. A Chapter 7 Quiz will be given to assess those three sections.
As usual, I'll still trying to work out the grades, and making sure that I'm devoting the right percentages for tests, quizzes, homework, and classwork. The tests are easy -- I need to give four 100-point tests, and the Chapter 4, 5, and 6 Tests count as three of these. The end-of-year project that I mentioned in my previous post will count as the fourth test.
As for quizzes, there was no Chapter 4 Quiz, and so the Chapter 5, 6, and 7 Quizzes count as only three of the four 75-point quizzes that I need to give. Most likely, I'll give an extra quiz just before the AP Exam, consisting solely of AP questions (both multiple-choice and free-response). And of course, the 100 points devoted to classwork include only the six-point weekly Warm-Up and Exit Pass sheets.
But I'm really having trouble with the homework. I need the HW to make up 200 points, which will be 20% of the grade. In first semester, I gave 67 assignments worth three points each (with Assignment #67 worth only two points, since 67 * 3 = 201). The semester lasted 18 weeks, and I was able to give those 67 assignments over 16 weeks (omitting the first week, before the students got their textbooks, and finals week).
The AP Calculus exam is the 17th week of the second semester. And so I should be able to give 67 assignments over the first 16 weeks of the semester, just as I had 67 HW's in 16 weeks in the fall. But unfortunately, I'm falling a bit behind.
What happened? First of all, I lost two assignments when COVID delayed the start of the semester (starting on a Wednesday in January instead of Monday). Then when I personally caught COVID on Groundhog Day, I fell behind even more. I can afford to give only one assignment instead of two on a quiz block day, usually quiz review on VNPS. But when I was out sick, the Wi-Fi failed on quiz day and the students ended up doing nothing -- then I lost another assignment when I gave only a VNPS on the rescheduled quiz day. Finally, I lost an assignment when I was supposed to give Assignment #22 on AP Classroom, but I didn't like the questions I found there -- and then I delayed Assignment #22 to the following Tuesday, which was 2/22/22. I just couldn't resist the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of giving Assignment #22 on Twosday (though had it not been for COVID, I'd have been well past #22 that day).
The last assignment I gave before spring break was numbered #37. In order to reach #67 in the six weeks remaining before the AP Exam, I'd have to give five assignments every week -- including quiz days and holidays. Of course, that's unacceptable.
Then again, I could start making some of the assignments worth four points instead of three, since the goal is to reach 200 points, not 67 assignments. The only problem is that I'm trying to keep the points in all three classes equal. So I'd either have to raise the point values of assignments in Ethnostats and Trig, or I'd have to give more assignments in those classes -- which is reasonable, since I can keep giving HW past the date of the AP Exams in those non-AP classrooms.
Still, I like the idea of keeping the points equal because it helps me catch errors. During spring break, I noticed that the points in Calculus and Ethnostats add up to 446 points, but there were only 428 points so far in Trig. There was only one 18-point HW assignment in Trig (Assignment #2), and so it was easy for me to see that I'd forgotten to include those points in Aeries. (The assignment was due just before I tested positive for COVID, which is likely why I forgot it.)
Well, I'll keep the Calculus assignments at three points for now, and set the assignments in the other classes so that the points are equal. I'll decide what to do about reaching 200 points later. (And yes I know -- this is all because I refuse to weight the grades in Aeries.)
Cheng's Art of Logic in an Illogical World, Chapter 16
Chapter 16 of Eugenia Cheng's The Art of Logic in an Illogical World, "Intelligence and Rationality," begins as follows:
"We have discussed the power and limitations of logic, and the power and limitations of emotions. I am going to conclude with a discussion of how to blend logic and emotions to be a helpfully, persuasively, powerfully rational person."
In this chapter, Cheng has a message for all of us -- how to be more intelligent:
"This is what I think intelligence consists of, and it is summed up in this diagram:"
And here is the diagram. Of course, "intelligent" is at the bottom. Pointing to this are "reasonable," "powerfully logical," and "helpful." On the top row are "framework," "logic," "techniques," and "emotion," which point to the items in the second row. This is sort of like Pascal's triangle, with "framework" and "logic" pointing to "reasonable," "logic" and "techniques" pointing to etc.
"The idea that your beliefs should not cause contradictions corresponds to the logical notion of 'consistency,' which we discussed in Chapter 9.
Given her definition of a logical person, there are several valid ways she judges you to be illogical:
- Your beliefs cause contradictions, or
- there are things you believe that you cannot deduce from your fundamental beliefs, or
- there are logical implications of things you believe that you do not believe.
The author, of course, wants us to be logical, intelligent human beings. But of course, this won't be easy for anyone:
Notice that Cheng doesn't require us to agree with everything she says in order for her to judge us as logical enough for her:
And of course, these fundamental assumptions are our axioms. Logical beings can nonetheless start with axioms that others don't accept, as the author herself admits.
Here Cheng is trying to explain why she doesn't like toast -- as she's already informed us in a much earlier chapter. For each person, it's all about accepting what follows from that person's axioms:
And Cheng's main example, of course, is science. She writes about how the scientific method is based on a particular framework -- and that "theory" has a stronger meaning in science:
But what if other people wish to begin with a different framework -- for example, a framework based on religious texts?
In particular, Cheng is writing about the theory of evolution. She adds:
Again, I remind you that Cheng writes about race and politics throughout her book. If you prefer not to read this, then be happy that today is the final chapter and skip all posts that have the "Eugenia Cheng" label.
"Similarly if a large group of people or sources agree with each other, that doesn't necessarily mean that there's a conspiracy, but it might -- it depends, again, what sort of framework has been used to establish that agreement."
Again, when a law of science is disproved, scientists change the law -- that is, they admit they're wrong and then modify the theory:
Cheng now returns to describing what it means to be a logical person. Again, it means that everything a logical person believes can be traced back to that person's fundamental beliefs:
Of course, logic in the real world isn't black and white. Most of the time, our logic will need to be probabilistic rather than deterministic:
To Cheng, logic is a superpower.
And so finally, the author is ready to define intelligence:
In order words, Cipolla's and Cheng's definition of intelligence isn't based on associating each person with a single number (as in "intelligence quotient" or IQ). An intelligent person is simply someone who can maximize the benefit to him/herself and others.
In Cheng's next example, the author wants to eat ice cream even though she knows that it will make her get fat. So by her own definition, is Cheng a logical, intelligent human being?
The author acknowledges that not even all intelligent people will agree all the time:
And of course, she means arguments that are grounded in solid logic:
But as we've seen before, most of the time there are ways in which all parties in a particular argument could be right.
And so Cheng concludes her book with a reminder:
As for myself, I might know a lot of math, but by Cheng's definition of intelligence, I fall short. I admit that in the classroom, I don't always act in way to maximize benefit to both myself (the teacher) and others (the students). I must work harder to make more intelligent decisions in the classroom.
Many of my problems in the classroom go back to arguments. Sometimes my arguments are based on logic and sometimes they aren't -- but often, the students' arguments aren't based on logic either. In many cases, they say whatever it takes to get what they want. No amount of logic on my part can counter their argument when they know that what they're saying is false. Instead, I should forget about logic and just remind the students that I'm in charge of the classroom -- and this often begins with teacher look.
There are other times in my life when I can apply Cheng's logic besides the classroom. For example, here's a recent story in the news:
https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/people/2018/10/04/bette-midler-sparks-controversy-women-n-word-world/1529279002/
Last week, the famous singer Bette Midler makes a tweet in which she compares male privilege to white privilege. In this post she quotes the title of a certain 1970's song. This song title doesn't mention a racial slur, but only a euphemism instead.
Midler's tweet has sparked outrage. Let's think about what we learned from Cheng's book to see why.
In particular, we think back to Cheng's cube of privilege. In this cube, male privilege and white privilege are two separate dimensions. Even Cheng herself has trouble comparing the two -- she supposes that white privilege is probably stronger than male privilege -- if only because females, at least, are always family, while blacks at one time were slaves. And so we expect privileged people to treat their family better than their slaves.
At any rate, it's awkward to compare two types of privilege at all. Many of Midler's critics point out that the singer forgot the people who suffer from two lacks of privilege -- black women. And indeed, Cheng proceeds to draw another privilege cube within feminism with vertices for both white women and black women.
In this case, Midler's use of a euphemism has nothing to do with the criticism. She could have used "blacks" or "African-Americans" instead of the euphemism, and Cheng's points would still hold. And therefore Midler probably should have tweeted that she is striving to defeat both male privilege and white privilege
In the end, I highly enjoyed reading Eugenia Cheng's book. I highly recommend it -- and I'll try to use Cheng's principles to make my arguments more logical.
Conclusion
And since I already covered Cheng's Bake Infinite Pi with x + y in my Pi Day post, it means that I've covered all of Cheng's books on the blog.
Now that spring break is over, we should return to our normal blogging schedule. But notice that my current district also observes Cesar Chavez Day. The labor leader's birthday is on March 31st, which is on a Thursday (just like Veteran's Day). The solution is to observe it on Friday instead. But this affects the block schedule -- whenever there is a minimum day or holiday on Friday, the block schedule is shifted so that odd days are on Monday and Wednesday.
And so I'll be posting on the even days this week -- Tuesday and Thursday.
By the way, observing both a March spring break and a separate Chavez Day is rare. In fact, next year's district shows spring break a week later so that it includes Chavez Day. (This puts our district in line with the Cal State and UC systems.) But this still doesn't mean that there will be a true Big March next year -- since there's no need for a separate Chavez Day, that extra day becomes a student-free PD day earlier in the month. Teachers might have a Big March next year, but not the students.
Oops -- there I go again talking about next year, when due to that pink slip, I might not even be in this district next year. Oh well -- my main goal moving forward is somehow to find myself a job for the 2022-23 school year.
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