The holidays are fast approaching, and with them the annual tradition of buying gifts. Deciding what to purchase for the criminologist in your life can be challenging. As instructors, supervisors, mentors, colleagues, spouses, relatives, and friends, they are often a difficult lot to please.
They already get free books from publishers (mostly texts), and they are deeply tired of true crime. Although some of these suggestions may be more labor-intensive to secure than others, here are a few ideas beyond another Amazon gift card.
A Signed First Edition of Their Favorite Classic Book on Crime
Get them a book written by Cohen, Merton, or Young. Get it signed if you can. Watch them spend the next ASC conference casually showing it off to their homies at the hotel bar. They will be genuinely touched by the lengths you went to secure it, by what it signals about their respect for the canon, and how impressed they think their colleagues will be.
A Ring Doorbell System
Because they study and/or teach about crime all day but frequently live in gated communities or the leafy suburbs, they are probably concerned about package theft. They will present papers on mass incarceration at the morning panel, then check their phone during lunch to see whether that alert was the neighbor’s cat or an actual threat to their property.
Arrange a Police Ride-Along
It’s probably been years since they did a ride-along with the local police department, if they ever did one at all. They talk about “the streets” in classes, cite ethnographies about corner boys, and assign Code of the Street every semester. But the closest they get to the streets these days is taking their dog for a walk, or driving to campus or Whole Foods.
A Prison Tour With Someone Who Is Formerly Incarcerated
Not a warden. Not a “corrections professional.” Someone who did time and can explain what actually happens versus what they have come to believe from reading academic research.
A Framed Map with dots on the locations of the ASC Conferences They Attended
Atlanta four times. Philadelphia three times. Washington twice. They have seen the inside of more Marriott ballrooms than any human should. This gift says: I recognize that you have technically been to lots of major American cities.
A physical copy of Wilson & Kelling’s 1982 Broken Windows Article
They teach it every semester in their Crime and Public Policy seminar. They have relied on summaries for years. But now they might be finally motivated to read the piece without admitting they have never read the original in its entirety.
A Consultation With Someone Who Actually Reduced Crime
Not another academic. Not someone with a theory. Someone who ran a program that worked and has the data to prove it. Watch your criminologist carefully explain why it does not count: there was no randomization, the effect size is too small, or it is not generalizable. They need to be right more than they need solutions. This gift will remind them of that.
What Not to Buy
Anything true-crime related. No documentaries. No podcasts. No theories about who really did it. By the end of the fall semester, academic criminologists are probably tired. They just want to finish grading poorly written term papers and exams, and forget what they do to earn a living for a few weeks.
Photo
Title: Small Gift Boxes
Photographer: Thomas Sienicki
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Prezenty_EXP_096_ubt.jpg15072313Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-12-14 16:23:362025-12-14 22:44:08What Should You Buy The Academic Criminologist in Your Life?
Determining what additional support promotes learning versus what substitutes for skills university students need to develop remains an open question.
The issue isn’t really about the amount of scaffolding instructors provide. It’s about the type. Some forms of support actively build student capacity. This includes detailed rubrics that demystify expectations, sample essays that illustrate strong reasoning, templates that model professional formatting, or prompts that help students assess their own understanding. These tools don’t do the work for students; they make the work more achievable.
Other forms of support are less clearly developmental. Automated deadline reminders provided by learning-management systems fall into this category. Some students find them helpful, particularly those managing complex schedules or navigating college without the benefit of prior models for academic success. But repeated reminders also risk creating dependence rather than building the time-management skills students need both during their academic careers and beyond.
Context matters here. Students arrive at university with very different levels of organizational ability and demands on their time. This is largely a function of prior educational experiences, neurodivergence, work obligations, caregiving responsibilities, and access to support systems. What one student experiences as excessive hand-holding might be an essential structure for another student learning to navigate academic expectations for the first time. A first-generation college student working two jobs faces different organizational challenges than someone whose family provided extracurricular tutors since middle school.
No single approach works for all students. The goal isn’t to withhold support in the name of toughness, but to provide structure that gradually transfers responsibility to students. Early in the semester, more reminders and check-ins might be appropriate. As the term progresses, those can taper off, signaling that students are expected to internalize and track their own obligations.
The medical analogy clarifies part of this tension. Doctors send appointment reminders because missed appointments create direct financial loss. In higher education, a student who misses a deadline doesn’t cost the instructor money. Arguably, it’s one less assignment or final exam to grade. But this framing misses the broader institutional and personal stakes: completion rates, retention metrics, and the students’ own investment in their education all suffer when deadlines slip. The question isn’t whether instructors have an incentive to remind students, but whether doing so serves educational aims.
Ultimately, the most useful scaffolding makes disciplinary thinking and academic processes transparent without doing that thinking for students. An assignment that includes a detailed breakdown of how historians evaluate sources teaches more than one that simply says “analyze your sources.” A rubric that distinguishes between summary and analysis helps students develop critical judgment. A sample outline reveals how arguments build coherently across paragraphs.
Deadline reminders, by contrast, don’t teach students how to plan backward from due dates, estimate how long tasks take, or balance competing priorities. These are skills students need to develop during college, and they matter long after the semester ends. The challenge for instructors is providing enough structure that students can succeed while resisting the impulse to manage students’ time on their behalf.
A well-designed syllabus, clear initial communication, and strategic use of developmental scaffolding can support students without undermining their growth. But here’s what’s at stake: students who never learn to manage their own time don’t just struggle in subsequent courses. They enter workplaces where no supervisor sends reminder emails about project deadlines, where the ability to anticipate, prioritize, and deliver without external prompting determines whether they advance or stall. The question isn’t whether to support students, but whether our support equips them for contexts where that support won’t exist.
Photo
Title: Scaffolding for rehabilitation in Madrid, Spain
Photographer. Felalo
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Andamio_de_tres_cuerpos_de_Aneur.jpg1024768Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-12-07 03:24:532025-12-07 03:35:42What Kind of Scaffolding Should University Instructors Provide?
For as long as I can remember, when the winter months arrive, I wear a black leather jacket and a black knitted longshoreman’s hat.
The hat is basically a simple knit cap beanie; snug-fitting, brimless or minimally brimmed, made from wool or acrylic, originally worn by dock workers, fishermen, laborers, sailors, and stevedores.
I’m a creature of habit. When it comes to clothing, once I find something I like, it’s hard for me to change my mind. I didn’t grow up with the longshoreman’s hat. In suburban Canada, where I spent my childhood, the winter headgear of choice was the toque. Every year, classmates arrived with a fresh batch, probably bought from Eaton’s, Simpsons, or some other national retail chain. The hats were colorful, fuzzy, long, and often downright silly in a Bob and Doug Mackenzie way.
But during my cab driving days, I explored different clothing styles and imagery, and the longshoreman’s hat spoke to me. It was darker, cleaner, sharper, and far more aligned with the look I wanted to project.
There was a quiet toughness to the hat, a kind of minimalist confidence. I also believe it’s relatively hip and stylish. In some respects, I’m paying homage to a long line of people who have worn it: Jean Reno, who played Léon in Léon: The Professional (1994), wore one. So did The Edge, guitarist with U2. Wearing the black knitted longshoreman’s hat feels like joining that tradition.
But the appeal isn’t only symbolic. The hat is practical. It’s inexpensive enough that losing one doesn’t ruin your day. It folds down neatly into a jacket pocket without bulging or ruining the silhouette. And it looks intentional without trying too hard. It’s part of street culture without slipping into contemporary streetwear.
That said, not every black knit cap qualifies. There are rules. Buy me the wrong one, and it will sit untouched forever in the basket where we store our hats; get it right, and I’ll wear it for years. And it cannot have the insignia of a company, organization, or brand on it. I don’t want to be mistaken for a human billboard.
For clarity, here’s what makes a true black knitted longshoreman’s hat, at least to me:
Price: It shouldn’t be expensive. If I lose it, I should be able to replace it without thinking twice.
Material: A wool-polyester blend is ideal. All wool sometimes itches, smells when wet, and loses shape; all polyester causes my head to overheat and becomes uncomfortable to wear.
Knit: The knit must be tight, with no prominent ribbing. It also cannot be unnecessarily thick or thin, like a running cap.
Length: When folded once, the cuff should be about two inches and cover roughly half the ears. If the hat is too long, it’s probably a hipster stocking cap; too short, and it’s most likely a French fashion beanie, which seems a tad overdressed and a little kitsch.
For years, I could find a suitable version at places like the long-gone Hercules Army Surplus Store on Yonge Street in Toronto, or Canal Jeans on Broadway in New York City. Before Amazon, I had to hunt for them; now the search is easier, but my standards haven’t loosened.
Not only is the black knitted longshoreman’s hat both a look and a habit, but it’s become part of my identity. In this manner, it’s a small thing that somehow connects memory, utility, style, and a sense of belonging.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_9820.jpg12831170Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-12-01 01:50:392025-12-01 21:45:22Not All Black Knitted Longshoreman’s Hats Are Created Equal
What Should You Buy The Academic Criminologist in Your Life?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossThe holidays are fast approaching, and with them the annual tradition of buying gifts. Deciding what to purchase for the criminologist in your life can be challenging. As instructors, supervisors, mentors, colleagues, spouses, relatives, and friends, they are often a difficult lot to please.
They already get free books from publishers (mostly texts), and they are deeply tired of true crime. Although some of these suggestions may be more labor-intensive to secure than others, here are a few ideas beyond another Amazon gift card.
A Signed First Edition of Their Favorite Classic Book on Crime
Get them a book written by Cohen, Merton, or Young. Get it signed if you can. Watch them spend the next ASC conference casually showing it off to their homies at the hotel bar. They will be genuinely touched by the lengths you went to secure it, by what it signals about their respect for the canon, and how impressed they think their colleagues will be.
A Ring Doorbell System
Because they study and/or teach about crime all day but frequently live in gated communities or the leafy suburbs, they are probably concerned about package theft. They will present papers on mass incarceration at the morning panel, then check their phone during lunch to see whether that alert was the neighbor’s cat or an actual threat to their property.
Arrange a Police Ride-Along
It’s probably been years since they did a ride-along with the local police department, if they ever did one at all. They talk about “the streets” in classes, cite ethnographies about corner boys, and assign Code of the Street every semester. But the closest they get to the streets these days is taking their dog for a walk, or driving to campus or Whole Foods.
A Prison Tour With Someone Who Is Formerly Incarcerated
Not a warden. Not a “corrections professional.” Someone who did time and can explain what actually happens versus what they have come to believe from reading academic research.
A Framed Map with dots on the locations of the ASC Conferences They Attended
Atlanta four times. Philadelphia three times. Washington twice. They have seen the inside of more Marriott ballrooms than any human should. This gift says: I recognize that you have technically been to lots of major American cities.
A physical copy of Wilson & Kelling’s 1982 Broken Windows Article
They teach it every semester in their Crime and Public Policy seminar. They have relied on summaries for years. But now they might be finally motivated to read the piece without admitting they have never read the original in its entirety.
A Consultation With Someone Who Actually Reduced Crime
Not another academic. Not someone with a theory. Someone who ran a program that worked and has the data to prove it. Watch your criminologist carefully explain why it does not count: there was no randomization, the effect size is too small, or it is not generalizable. They need to be right more than they need solutions. This gift will remind them of that.
What Not to Buy
Anything true-crime related. No documentaries. No podcasts. No theories about who really did it. By the end of the fall semester, academic criminologists are probably tired. They just want to finish grading poorly written term papers and exams, and forget what they do to earn a living for a few weeks.
Photo
Title: Small Gift Boxes
Photographer: Thomas Sienicki
What Kind of Scaffolding Should University Instructors Provide?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossDetermining what additional support promotes learning versus what substitutes for skills university students need to develop remains an open question.
The issue isn’t really about the amount of scaffolding instructors provide. It’s about the type. Some forms of support actively build student capacity. This includes detailed rubrics that demystify expectations, sample essays that illustrate strong reasoning, templates that model professional formatting, or prompts that help students assess their own understanding. These tools don’t do the work for students; they make the work more achievable.
Other forms of support are less clearly developmental. Automated deadline reminders provided by learning-management systems fall into this category. Some students find them helpful, particularly those managing complex schedules or navigating college without the benefit of prior models for academic success. But repeated reminders also risk creating dependence rather than building the time-management skills students need both during their academic careers and beyond.
Context matters here. Students arrive at university with very different levels of organizational ability and demands on their time. This is largely a function of prior educational experiences, neurodivergence, work obligations, caregiving responsibilities, and access to support systems. What one student experiences as excessive hand-holding might be an essential structure for another student learning to navigate academic expectations for the first time. A first-generation college student working two jobs faces different organizational challenges than someone whose family provided extracurricular tutors since middle school.
No single approach works for all students. The goal isn’t to withhold support in the name of toughness, but to provide structure that gradually transfers responsibility to students. Early in the semester, more reminders and check-ins might be appropriate. As the term progresses, those can taper off, signaling that students are expected to internalize and track their own obligations.
The medical analogy clarifies part of this tension. Doctors send appointment reminders because missed appointments create direct financial loss. In higher education, a student who misses a deadline doesn’t cost the instructor money. Arguably, it’s one less assignment or final exam to grade. But this framing misses the broader institutional and personal stakes: completion rates, retention metrics, and the students’ own investment in their education all suffer when deadlines slip. The question isn’t whether instructors have an incentive to remind students, but whether doing so serves educational aims.
Ultimately, the most useful scaffolding makes disciplinary thinking and academic processes transparent without doing that thinking for students. An assignment that includes a detailed breakdown of how historians evaluate sources teaches more than one that simply says “analyze your sources.” A rubric that distinguishes between summary and analysis helps students develop critical judgment. A sample outline reveals how arguments build coherently across paragraphs.
Deadline reminders, by contrast, don’t teach students how to plan backward from due dates, estimate how long tasks take, or balance competing priorities. These are skills students need to develop during college, and they matter long after the semester ends. The challenge for instructors is providing enough structure that students can succeed while resisting the impulse to manage students’ time on their behalf.
A well-designed syllabus, clear initial communication, and strategic use of developmental scaffolding can support students without undermining their growth. But here’s what’s at stake: students who never learn to manage their own time don’t just struggle in subsequent courses. They enter workplaces where no supervisor sends reminder emails about project deadlines, where the ability to anticipate, prioritize, and deliver without external prompting determines whether they advance or stall. The question isn’t whether to support students, but whether our support equips them for contexts where that support won’t exist.
Photo
Title: Scaffolding for rehabilitation in Madrid, Spain
Photographer. Felalo
Not All Black Knitted Longshoreman’s Hats Are Created Equal
/by Jeffrey Ian RossFor as long as I can remember, when the winter months arrive, I wear a black leather jacket and a black knitted longshoreman’s hat.
The hat is basically a simple knit cap beanie; snug-fitting, brimless or minimally brimmed, made from wool or acrylic, originally worn by dock workers, fishermen, laborers, sailors, and stevedores.
I’m a creature of habit. When it comes to clothing, once I find something I like, it’s hard for me to change my mind. I didn’t grow up with the longshoreman’s hat. In suburban Canada, where I spent my childhood, the winter headgear of choice was the toque. Every year, classmates arrived with a fresh batch, probably bought from Eaton’s, Simpsons, or some other national retail chain. The hats were colorful, fuzzy, long, and often downright silly in a Bob and Doug Mackenzie way.
But during my cab driving days, I explored different clothing styles and imagery, and the longshoreman’s hat spoke to me. It was darker, cleaner, sharper, and far more aligned with the look I wanted to project.
There was a quiet toughness to the hat, a kind of minimalist confidence. I also believe it’s relatively hip and stylish. In some respects, I’m paying homage to a long line of people who have worn it: Jean Reno, who played Léon in Léon: The Professional (1994), wore one. So did The Edge, guitarist with U2. Wearing the black knitted longshoreman’s hat feels like joining that tradition.
But the appeal isn’t only symbolic. The hat is practical. It’s inexpensive enough that losing one doesn’t ruin your day. It folds down neatly into a jacket pocket without bulging or ruining the silhouette. And it looks intentional without trying too hard. It’s part of street culture without slipping into contemporary streetwear.
That said, not every black knit cap qualifies. There are rules. Buy me the wrong one, and it will sit untouched forever in the basket where we store our hats; get it right, and I’ll wear it for years. And it cannot have the insignia of a company, organization, or brand on it. I don’t want to be mistaken for a human billboard.
For clarity, here’s what makes a true black knitted longshoreman’s hat, at least to me:
For years, I could find a suitable version at places like the long-gone Hercules Army Surplus Store on Yonge Street in Toronto, or Canal Jeans on Broadway in New York City. Before Amazon, I had to hunt for them; now the search is easier, but my standards haven’t loosened.
Not only is the black knitted longshoreman’s hat both a look and a habit, but it’s become part of my identity. In this manner, it’s a small thing that somehow connects memory, utility, style, and a sense of belonging.