[Previous entry: "How not to name your kid"] [Next entry: "Preventative prevention"] My mother is a teacher from the old school, where students do what they're told and aren't required to spend hours reflecting on their own learning. This might explain why I took such a dim view of the first twenty minutes of my term orientation class being devoted to each of forty students explaining what they'd like to achieve to the rest of the class. You know, as if the program was going to be instantly modified to match our aims and desires.

Coupled with an abundance of PICO enquiries in the assessment requirements, the medical equivalent of the mindcancer that is outcomes-based education, I've got a nasty feeling that this term is going to suck.