Gas stations and card fees

As you've probably noticed, many gas stations have started charging different prices for cash and credit/debit. Up until 2010, gas stations that accepted credit cards were prohibited from charging a lower rate for cash customers. (Reason: Mastercard and Visa rule the country.) After a court ruled against the two credit giants, stations started listing two different prices.

As a warm-up to what might be more intensive posting during my Korea trip (yes, I'm going!), I decided to document my observations locally. I don't have a gas card, and I don't have much brand loyalty. Consequently, I've got a fair amount of anecdotal evidence that there's some standardization across stations of a specific brand, and that not all brands treat the card fees equally.]

Note: most of my direct experience is with debit card purchases. However, debit cards are generally treated the same as credit cards, even though debit transactions typically have lower merchant fees associated with them. I'll note places where debit is treated differently than credit.

Arco:

As the article above mentioned, Arco didn't take cards until quite recently. They currently apply a $0.35 charge for debit-card customers, but that appears to be a flat fee. I don't know precisely what the merchant fees are (I'll update the post later), but a good estimate is 3%. If that's true, then Arco is not passing on the full cost of a card transaction to the customer.

Mobil:

Mobil is often one of the pricier brands of gas in this area. Perhaps as a consequence, they don't charge a different rate for cash and credit/debit. This appears consistent over the handful of Mobil stations I explored in the San Gabriel Valley.

Chevron:

Chevron tends to add about 10 cents a gallon for credit and debit transactions, which translates into about 2.5% at current gas prices in Southern California. This means they're passing on the full price.

76:

76 stations seem to exhibit a bit more variability than the others. I don't know why -- maybe the franchisees generally have more freedom to set rates. I've seen some that list the same price for cash as credit/debit, but I think a majority charge about 10 cents more per gallon.

Shell:

Ugh. The Shell closest to my house charges 20 cents a gallon more for card transactions. This is about 5%, or well above what they should reasonably expect to have to pay in merchant fees. Another one a bit farther away is a bit more reasonable, and charges *only* 10 cents a gallon more for card purchases.

Valero:

These stations tend to be less common, and, honestly, they have the feel of an independent station. The one closest to my house charges 4 cents more per gallon for credit purchases, but charges the same as cash for debit purchases. This might have to do with the difference in fees between credit/debit, as mentioned above.


Other notes:

Of all the stations I've tried, I haven't noticed a major hold placed on my card by any of them. The policies may have changed at some point -- previously, a hold, often of more than the amount of gas purchased ($75 in some ridiculous cases) was placed on the card. This could be Very Bad Indeed, and lead to overdrafts or cards being declined if one flirted too closely with a zero balance. It's a welcome development, but I'd need to investigate further as to when this changed and why, if it is, in fact, a real change.

Update: it appears debit card PIN transactions aren't subject to holds. Not sure why that would be true, but that credit cards would be subject to holds. Fraud? That doesn't seem to make much sense to me. Maybe there's a different clearing mechanism for credit and debit purchases with a PIN.

Educational philosophy, revised

Educational Philosophy

My educational philosophy can be organized around five values: (1) Independence/Interdependence; (2) Anchoring knowledge; (3) Modeling; (4) Social Diversity; and (5) Economic Mobility.

1. Independence/Interdependence

The teacher’s goal ought to be to promote independence from the teacher and interdependence among the students. A teacher must fight the desire to be the center of attention and be prepared to cede the spotlight in order to develop students’ abilities. This does not mean a hands-off approach, especially in the early stages of learning. But it does mean structuring the class to provide greater opportunities for teamwork.

2. Anchoring knowledge

New knowledge must be anchored in old knowledge, both within and across subjects. My subject expertise, broad educational background and varied personal interests mean that I can generally come up with surprisingly apt analogies and tie-ins that relate to their world. By putting in the work to anchor new knowledge in their existing world, I’ve reduced the sense of inaccessibility and irrelevance that plagues science classes. Once that initial bridge has been made, anchoring occurs within a subject; this is especially true for physics, which depends upon earlier mastery in order to understand and solve progressively more complicated problems.

3. Modeling

Although the ultimate goal is to have students become collaborators and the teacher to become less a provider of information and more a facilitator of learning, students need to have a clear idea of what is expected and the accepted, proper ways of organizing and communicating information and understanding. Experience means nothing in itself; it is only experience paired with proper technique, process, and understanding that will take students toward greater mastery, both in the classroom and outside it. To this end, I make certain students see, clearly, how to solve problems in an organized, clear way, and emphasize process more than product (the right answer). The right answer matters, of course, but getting the right answer (or even asking the right questions) can happen reliably only if students have a solid, reliable understanding of the process of scientific inquiry and scientific problem-solving.

4. Social Diversity

Better decisions are reached when there is a combination of a diversity of backgrounds and a common purpose. An educational setting, and especially a community college, is built for that confluence of factors. I have had the challenge and opportunity to work across a wide variety of cultural, economics, and social lines, and one thing has become clear: there is an opportunity for every person to develop their awareness and appreciation of the universe. In so doing, the language of physics and astronomy provides a common experience and set of knowledge, one tied to the historical traditions of many cultures and peoples. Everyone, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, country of origin, ethnicity, economic means, or disability, can and should participate in the learning and doing of science.

5. Economic mobility

Scientific education isn't just about nurturing the soul. It’s about nourishing the body. I know that many of my students will be immigrants and refugees. Most will be near or in poverty. Historically, STEM training has been, and continue to be, a critical step in entering into higher-skilled, higher-wage jobs. I don’t expect, or even wish, that my students pursue academic research science careers. Instead, what they need, and what I hope to provide, are the fundamentals of problem-solving, technical knowledge, abstract reasoning, and deductive logic that will be fundamental to their success, whether they pursue a STEM career or not. To that end, I will make certain that, in every aspect, my course accommodates students of limited means without limiting their ambitions for a better life.

Educational philosophy

This is a very rough draft of my educational philosophy, in response to a prompt required by the San Bernardino Community College District for a tenure-track faculty position.

I confess; I feel a bit appalled that I never tried articulating a formal educational philosophy in writing. Granted, I've known it's more complicated than "make people less dumb". But even that four-word philosophy has a lot embedded in it. What are the better and worse ways of achieving that? Do you treat all people equally? How do you measure dumbness?

Hopefully, these (draft) principles seem less theoretical and are anchored in the practical.

Feedback welcome. I'll probably edit these shortly, but I have some tutoring to do, and wanted to solicit ideas before I submitted any sort of philosophy statement.

Educational Philosophy

1. Independence

The teacher’s goal ought to be to promote independence and mutual interdependence among the students. A teacher must fight the desire to be the center of attention and be prepared to cede the spotlight in order to develop students’ abilities. This does not mean a hands-off approach, especially in the early stages of learning. But it does mean structuring the class to provide greater opportunities for teamwork and collaboration, using current best practices.

2. Anchoring new topics to students’ existing knowledge/interests and fostering curiosity

Science is fundamentally about curiosity. I dislike the trend toward edutainment, in that it has, as a built-in assumption, that science in itself isn’t interesting enough without a song and dance. I do engage my students, and my broad background and interests mean that I can generally come up with surprisingly apt tie-ins that relate to their world. It might mean relating a topic to a popular movie, or a mechanical principle to a concept in business. This challenges an assumption that subjects are discrete and unrelated, and provides an opportunity for students to become curious across disciplines.

3. Combating phobias and stereotypes and developing confidence

Many students carry with them fears about being unable to comprehend topics like physics and advanced math. These are often traced to bad mentorship from teachers or family members. As a tutor, I drew directly from the principles of cognitive-behavioral therapy to encourage students to verbalize their subconscious (or conscious) insecurities, and directly challenge them. Although classroom instruction and the limits of time make it impractical to do this on an individual level (except through the incidental casual conversation), it is still possible—and absolutely necessary—to do so in a group setting. It is only by directly addressing and combating those fears and insecurities and actively working to develop confidence through mastery that a student can begin to own a new , more positive identity in regards to his or her ability to understand and “do” science.

4. Shaping through example

Although college ought to be about shifting learning from a hierarchical classroom structure to peer and independent learning, the professor still plays an important role. However, the role that a professor ought to be asked to play is that of facilitator and example, in addition to expert and source of knowledge. If I want students to have a more nuanced view of science and scientists (other than a one-dimensional point of view shaped by popular culture), then I need to be somewhat nuanced and complex. I may have to work against type, both to reduce the intimidation many students feel and to allow a broader group to feel comfortable identifying as a “scientist”, or to value science.

5. The importance of providing an example for how to succeed at school

Great educators can and do spend a great deal of time working on how best to communicate the subject matter to their students. I believe that we often neglect the reverse flow of communication: we can do better to train our students to not only know the subject, but to communicate that knowledge effectively. To this end, I feel it is important to use examples and sample solutions, both to illuminate the process of solving a problem and the process of conveying that mastery back to me.

6. The role of diversity in the scientific and educational enterprise

Diversity's relative importance is not reflected by its position on this list. It is practically axiomatic (though also supported by research) that better decisions are reached when there is a combination of a diversity of backgrounds and a common purpose. An educational setting, and especially a community college, is built for that confluence of factors. Students have diverse ethnicities, primary languages, ages, belief systems, sexual identifications, genders, and life experiences. I have had the challenge and opportunity to work across a wide variety of cultural, economics, and social lines, and one thing has become clear: there is an opportunity for every person to develop their awareness and appreciation of the universe. In so doing, the language of physics and astronomy provides a common experience and set of knowledge, one tied to the historical traditions of many cultures and peoples.

7. Economic mobility

Scientific education isn't just about nurturing the soul. It’s about nourishing the body. I know that many of my students will be immigrants and refugees. Most will be near or in poverty. STEM courses are a critical step in achieving economic mobility and entering into higher-skilled, higher-wage jobs. I don’t expect, or even wish, that my students pursue academic research science careers. Instead, what they need, and what I hope to provide, are the fundamentals of problem-solving, technical knowledge, abstract reasoning, and deductive logic that will be fundamental to their success, whether they pursue a STEM career or not. To that end, I will make certain that, in every aspect, my course accommodates students of limited means without limiting their ambitions for a better life.

April 13, 2013

(This was a hard post to finish, and so it took a while.)

Phillips Brooks once said that character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones. That is, perhaps, why I think April 13, 2013, was a pivotal day in my life.

In the morning, I attended a memorial service for Zachary, a 5-year old boy that had died of cancer. It was a very rough service for everyone, but I felt incredibly bad for the parents. Not only did they have to grieve for their son, but they had to do so while talking with hundreds of people who, with the best of intentions, wanted to convey their condolences. Think about how emotionally draining it is for a married couple to visit tables and talk with all the guests. Now substitute the joy of a wedding with the loss of a young child. I'm not sure I'd have the strength for a public ceremony.

I remember talking with the pastor emeritus of our church, who attended but did not speak at the service. Somehow it came up, and I found out that, in his 35 or so years of service, and 50+ years of ministry, he had never had to minister at a child's funeral service.

I will never forget the father's eulogy.

I won't describe the specifics of how the father spoke, or what he spoke about. Suffice it to say that it was heartfelt, pained, and powerful. He had an eloquence that I did not know he possessed, and perhaps he will never possess it again. I don't know if this helps, or what I'm even trying to say by this: it was more real than anything I had experienced in living memory, even my grandmother's death.

I don't think anyone recorded the speech -- how could any of us take out a camera or a phone to create a permanent record of a family's unimaginable grief? Some things are meant to remain a product of a specific time, and should not be recorded except in memory. And yet, I know that I absolutely have to remember exactly what happened during that memorial service. 

Later that evening, I attended a party hosted by a high school classmate. I hesitate to call her my friend, because I kept myself emotionally closed from others. And yet she is my friend; she earned it by reaching out to me after many years to meet a couple weeks ago, and again to give me an opportunity to see both familiar faces and meet new people. I laughed, a lot, and had some wonderful heart-to-hearts with people I hadn't been close to.

Today, I experienced a wide range of emotions. And it was perfectly human. I did not question the legitimacy of any of those emotions, or analyze them until this moment. I don't think I'll analyze them now. It is sufficient for me to understand, on a visceral level, that we humans need and ought to feel a wide range of things in our lives. Today taught me to appreciate the temporary, and to not squander it in grumbling about its brevity. Today, I learned the importance of being a participant in life, and not just an observer.

Kiera Wilmot

http://blogs.miaminewtimes.com/riptide/2013/04/florida_teen_girl_charged_with.php

When I first read this story, I was horrified. But, learning from various other cases, I resolved to wait a full 24 hours before reaching judgment. I thought the story worthy of posting in the interim, but didn't sign any petitions or write any letters. After all, sometimes there is some additional evidence that comes out that, in retrospect, justifies the decisions by law enforcement.

I just read the publication date of the article. It's six days old.

And needless to say, I'm livid.

Some have tried to make this case about race. It may or may not be about that, and I don't think race needs to be a factor at all to feel passionately about this. But I understand if some people view this case through the lens of race.

And it'd be easy -- perhaps easier for me -- to make this about the science culture wars. After all, given the recent noise from Lamar Smith (R-TX), current chair of the House Science Committee, about making political oversight the determining factor for NSF grants, it's clear that one political party (you get two guesses) has adopted a pretty anti-science position, even as it seeks minority opinion to try to make settled issues appear somewhat unsettled. I hope to hell she does get into a good program that gives her the opportunity to get a great science education; she has more native curiosity about science than I did at her age, and if I was good enough to get an NSF fellowship, she probably will be, too. (Who knows? She might even complete her PhD, unlike yours truly.)

But it's not about either of this. This is about childhood, and about America.

It's about whether we, as a country, are so paranoid of our own youth that we can't exercise judgment and come up with proportionate punishment.

Maybe this would've been different if the Boston Marathon bombings hadn't happened. Maybe many are still a bit paranoid about the potential for young people to inflict mass casualties using relatively simple devices. Maybe we've gotten so used to hearing stories of heinous crimes committed by younger, and younger people that it's only natural we've begun criminalizing the young.

Maybe we've become a nation of cowards.

I believe in an America that can't be defeated by one bomb, or a hundred, or a thousand. I believe in an America where our native, sometimes sickeningly naive optimism triumphs over the paranoia and cowardice that are invitations to unchecked power.

Have we become so weak, so pathetic as a country that a little bang on the field is enough to bring down the security apparatus of the state?

If so, we deserve the horrors of the worst paranoid fears realized, for we are no longer a nation worth defending.

You have a 16-year old young person, who happens to be black, happens to be female, happens to be bright, curious, and, by all accounts, a good person. She is now facing two felony charges for something that appears on Youtube, for combining very, very common items.

Did she display a lapse in judgment? Sure. I don't know the details yet about the amount of reactants used, but I suppose she could've seriously injured her eye if the ejected bottle top had hit her in the face. I'm also curious why she didn't get permission from her teacher, and who the mysterious friend is that allegedly told her to do it.

A 16-year old's judgment could be worse. We're complaining about a 16-year old girl who would do a science experiment to impress a friend. There are 16-year old girls who spread their legs to impress someone. Or do drugs. Or break into a house.

Was it uncommon? No.

At my college, we used to blow up things, like, oh, large weather balloons filled with flammable material. Those were stopped before my time. But someone did try to detonate an ice block with thermite once. Yeah, there was some trouble about it, but it was all resolved without a felony charge. And I think there were occasional magnesium fires in the courtyard. All of these were more dangerous than the poof generated by aluminum and toilet bowl cleaner, outdoors, in an uncrowded field.

Was it criminal? I hope not.

It's pretty much impossible to write a good law that covers all possible cases. That's why law is evolving, dynamic, and imperfect. Maybe she did technically break the law (though it's not at all obvious from what I read). But if so, does it make sense to charge her with felony counts?

The whole reason we have a trial by jury, DAs, and judges is that there is, and ought to be, some leeway regarding which cases to bring to trial, which cases merit a guilty verdict, and, even in those cases, some level of judgment regarding sentencing.

I have not seen any of those fine aspects of jurisprudence on display in the last week. What I do see is half-hearted excuses by weak individuals unwilling (with the exception of the school's principal) to stand up and say, this is wrong. We are not doing right by her. We are not doing right by all of the youth we regard, by default, as threats.

I'm disgusted, and will sign petitions, and write letters, and contribute to her legal defense fund. Also, I'll encourage Harvey Mudd College, recently recognized for its success in growing its female student body, to start sending her application materials.

Could something come up in the next few days that will leave egg on my face? Sure. Then I'm sure some people will mock me for running to defend someone not worth defending. Bullshit. I'll choose the promise of youth over the cynicism of the old every day, any day. And if that means I'm wrong occasionally, so be it.

But it looks pretty damn ridiculous right now. Florida has definitely demonstrated some high profile madness in a number of criminal cases in recent years. Here's hoping they get this one right, and let her get back to school soon.

Goodbye, Zachary

It has been a rough week. I'm usually not at a loss for words, but this is very, very difficult to write.

There is a family at my mother's church. The father is a tall, handsome police officer. I don't know the mother's profession, but she is blessed with good looks, a particularly gentle disposition, and a gift for teaching young children in an efficient, thoughtful way. There is a set of grandparents, too -- a cheerful Filipino grandpa and a Southern belle grandma. I didn't know the family well, as I don't attend church regularly. But to the extent that I did know them, I liked them. They were part of what I regarded as good and right in this world.

The family revolved around Zachary, a five-year old boy, adopted from Korea. Zachary definitely displayed a high degree of intelligence -- he was definitely smarter, more verbal, and a better reader than I was at that age. He was also remarkably well-behaved.

The parents had adopted Zachary some time after their firstborn had died, after four months of life.

On Wednesday, I learned that Zachary, a five-year old boy at my mother's church, died from cancer. He had been sick for a few months.

I cried then, just as I cried the previous Sunday during Easter service when I heard he was returning home from UCLA for hospice care. I felt guilt over little things, like not stopping by to drop off a cake. (I knew they were overburdened with requests to visit, and didn't want to contribute to that; but a cake is more tangible and, in my view, more effective than distant, silent prayers.)

I was angry, too. Sunday night, I had prayed, in my own reckless, spiteful fashion, to a God I didn't believe in. I made an offer: if God healed him, and allowed him to live a productive life, I'd swallow my pride, become a Christian, and even seriously consider entering seminary. That's how badly I wanted him to live.

And I was angry at God for making this family go through so much. Did any family deserve this much sorrow?

I always hated the story of Job. God came off as prideful, even arrogant, and Job's children and wives are regarded as trivially as the livestock, spoken in the same breath, and completely replaceable. It is only interesting in that it's a case of God having faith in a man, in a book that seems crammed with commandments for the direction of faith to go the other direction.

But, in the end, the anger passed -- or at least died down to a persistent smolder. But the pain did not. Why did I feel so strongly about this boy and this family? I'd met him only once. I barely knew the parents or grandparents. 

If I can be brutally honest, and selfish, the pain I felt was at least in part due to something specific to me and my life, and had nothing to do with them. Their story, their pain, their loss -- these were a stark reminder to myself that life is not fair, that we cannot count on a divine arbiter to promote justice. We are alone, and if our world is to be more just, more fair, more humane and loving, it comes from us.

And the second part is this: I had counted on the young children like Zachary (and my young cousins) to be better than I was -- raised in more stable homes, raised to be brighter and stronger and more emotionally confident than I was. It would make my failures and pain and seeming inability to do any fucking thing right ok. They would be there to pick up the slack.

Except Zachary won't  be. He leaves a hole in his family, in the church community, and, if one can imagine his full life, an absence that won't be fully appreciated, but will have an impact, across everyone who would have had a chance to know him. That's why the death of a child seems particularly wrong, a particularly heinous act of either a spiteful God or an indifferent, godless universe. 

Selfishly, Zachary and others were my "opt-out" card. They were the people who would let me continue to coast along, not doing much of anything, going through the motions of life in a depressed, indifferent, and callous state. 

So perhaps I won't be able to do that, now. I still don't know how I'll ultimately react and change, or if I will. The last couple days have been marked by escapism, headaches, and sleeping a lot -- definitely depressed behavior. And I feel disgusted with myself that it should be because of what it means for my life, rather than what it means for his family's. 

Maybe Tim points the way forward. Tim, Pam, and their son Ben were members of St. Paul's UMC when I lived in Ithaca. They had lost their younger son  to cancer. Tim stopped his previous career and turned the painful experience of caring for his dying son at home to start studying to be a nurse. He found, in his grief, a way to express it through service. He'll e a damn good one too -- if only more fathers would be possessed of such kindness, gentle grace, and good humor as he has. 

So while there might be no one to pray to, I will ask for strength, to do better, to stop waiting for someone to fix me, to stop waiting for my "real" father to show up one day and make things better. I am a flawed, flawed vessel, but hopefully, I can still hold it together enough to carry whatever I must, for as long as I must, if for no other reason than that there might be no one else left to do it.