I’ve been having a difficult time lately — partly because of [insert frantic gesturing at the state of the world], partly personal — but one thing has been a real bright light for me in the last few months. I think it has some broader lessons that might give some hope, so THREAD

In March I started teaching an #rstats class at the intro level to almost 700 psych undergrads. It was my first time teaching it, which meant spending months on an insane sprint creating 25 lectures, weekly tutorials, assessments, and answering zillions of emails.

Still, I asked for this. I love teaching SO much, and I love teaching coding and math more than any other kind. Coding and math are my happy place — meditative, soothing — and I love the challenge of getting people who fear and loathe it to see some of its beauty.

While planning the subject I came up with the ridiculous idea of wrapping the entire semester around an ongoing story centred around my children’s stuffed animals. It would be a tale of bunnies facing food shortages, terror of outsiders, fear of the unknown…

.. and over the semester they would learn to use data and come together to solve their problems and find a way forward. I was afraid the students would find it a bit cringey, but at the same time I thought it sounded so fun I had to give it a try.

The bunny story added to the workload even more but I couldn’t not do it. Anyway, all of that is to say that even before Covid, I knew it was going to be a tough semester: SO much work on top of the substantial personal stuff I’ve been dealing with.

(And of course in addition to this subject I also had a lab to run, honours/PhD/etc students to support, grants to administer and write, and colleagues who depended on me to work on joint projects.)

Then Covid hit and it went from difficult to feeling at times impossible. We have two small children, ages 4 and 7, and while my partner has been fantastic at taking the lion’s share of the unexpected child-rearing, it still hit me too.

My subject was better adapted to online learning than many — we already did flipped classroom, for instance — but it was still a huge source of stress and uncertainty and extra work for myself, the tutors, and the students.

Where’s the hope? You may be asking at this point. So far this seems terrible. Where’s the grace?

I’ll tell you. The hope is the students. The hope is this next generation we have coming up. They are spectacular, y’all, and we fucking OWE it to them to step up and fix this shitshow of a world we’re leaving to them.

As hard as this semester was for me, it was also really hard for my students, if not harder. Many didn’t know what country they’d be living in. Many couldn’t support themselves anymore, or had terrible living situations, or no childcare.

Plus they were taking my subject — a subject most of them feared and thought they’d loathe. A subject that is really quite difficult.

And yet, OMG, they persevered. They believed me (or at least tried to believe me) when I told them they could do it. They didn’t let their fear stop them from learning more about R and stats in a few months than many people had told me they’d be capable of.

Some students went so far beyond expectations: finding other datasets on the web and playing with them for fun; asking highly technical questions about the central limit theorem and the foundations of statistics; asking for more math, more resources.

Some students struggled, and I have so much respect for them, because they KEPT TRYING. Most of them ended up getting it, or at least getting most of it. On the first assignment, which was not easy, the grades were so good I worried about getting in trouble…

… for an inability to differentiate students. I had to make the exam difficult for this reason, and I was afraid they’d hate me or not be able to do it. We’re still in the middle of marking it but neither of those things seem to have happened.

THEY STEPPED UP, ya’ll. These students, who three months ago knew no stats and no coding, somehow in the middle of a pandemic managed to master this stuff at a level that will open major doors for them in the future.

And in this mastery, they’ve found confidence. Some have realised that they actually DO like math and coding. Some have realised that they can do really hard things. Many now have the foundations for all sorts of careers…

… careers in data science, in analysis, in psychology, in all kinds of social science. I’ve told them I’m so proud of them but I don’t think they grasp HOW proud of them I am and how completely impressive they all are.

And through all these terrible months, these students (and the bunny story) kept me going. Just as the bunnies learned to rely on each other and use data and science and reasoning to solve their problems…

… I like to think *we* learned to rely on each other and to do the same. Even online, I felt like we were all pulling each other through this difficult time. And, looking back, I see a lot of lessons for myself that I want to remember.

1) There IS no science/art divide. Both are so important. Math, coding, informed data analysis, proper scientific method — these are keys to understanding. But art — stories, like the bunnies — that is what gives it all heart and meaning.

2) The world seems to be getting harder. There’s no denying that. Hard things suck, but they can be cleansing too. I have had *such* a hard time lately, and it’s still hard. But it’s made me better: I know who I am, and I know how to be that person.

3) The next generation needs us. They are amazing and hopeful and inspirational and trying so hard to make something of the shit sandwich they’ve been given. But they can’t do it alone. I’m old and cynical and exhausted…

… but I can’t look at my students, or my kids, or the young people I mentor, and feel anything but an obligation to do what I can for them. No matter how tired or cynical I feel.

4) In the end I think of the lesson from the bunnies. We have the keys to make this a better world. Those keys are logic, science, reason, and data. But the more important ones are: kindness, communication, open hearts and courage.

Have courage. Be kind. Keep trying. We can do this — we have to do this — for them. END