Dumb as...

I received an email from a student yesterday. The student had badly misspelled my name, something along the lines of "ratekainy" but that's not the part that warrants comparison to a box filled with hair.

Instead it is the purpose of the email, which was to ask if I received it so that she could email me her paper from that account in another email.

Let that sink in for a moment.

A break from the Negative

So, I put a lot of negative stuff out here. In fact, all teachers do, on all levels. We're usually resentful of being underappreciated by just about everyone, we have to try to focus on conveying knowledge and training students to think when most of our classes are made up of individuals with absymally low maturity levels, and we're often called upon to play tutor, counselor, therapist, advisor, etc... One thing I've been trying to do as we sit in the break room gossiping at work (which shockingly resembles the teacher's lounge from Calvin's school in the Calvin and Hobbes comics - he bursts into it during a fantasy at school, and sees aliens eating lunch) is to bring up the positive aspects of the job, which often gets me Looks from the other teachers. The Looks mean: "Oh, the naivete of youth. Soon enough, she'll figure out that all students are brats, and the ones that aren't are just working an angle." But still, its worth trying (she says, hesitantly into the laughing void). And because it is worth trying, I will tell you the story of Marian and Jimmy, two students whose names I have changed.

Jimmy is a decent guy. He's really struggling with grades, but he does alright with classroom behavior, and jokes with me, which makes him a plus to have around. Marian is one of those students who puts you on notice when you start taking your job for granted. She's very young, and has a toddler, has never missed a class, and her work is explemary. Marian has taken Jimmy under her wing. She helps him with classwork, she helps him outside of class, and she sticks up for him. She also puts him in his place if he forgets his homework or talks while I'm talking. Its an interesting enough dynamic to watch in the classroom, but it got downright touching when Marian approached me after class one day.

M: Ms. Rainykate?
RK: Yes?
M: Can we go over this again on Monday?
RK: Sure, I'll review before the quiz. Did you have some questions?
M: Not me, but Jimmy doesn't understand it, and he's too embarrassed to ask for help. He told me not to talk to you, but I said it was about something else.
RK: (suddenly understanding) Oh. Thank you for telling me. I'll push the quiz back and we'll be sure everyone understands.

Now, Jimmy flunked his quiz anyway when we took it, largely because he can't get over not wanting to look stupid by asking questions. But I went back over that material, gave extra homework, and did a classroom activity that Monday. Partially because Jimmy's not the only student I have who won't ask questions, but mostly because I was so touched by Marian that I remembered why I sometimes enjoy teaching - there are very few other jobs where you get to see genuine concern for others and where you get to demonstrate that concern.

Students make you angry. They will infuriate you with their ignorance and the joy they take in it. They will consciously refuse to see the connections between materials. They will challenge you on your authority, on your knowledge, on your skill, and on your judgement untill all you want to do is walk out and leave them to destroy each other, Lord of the Flies style. There are so many loud, obnoxious and dumb moments in the classroom that it becomes difficult to see the quiet ones. And yet those are the ones that really matter. So, while I will not deprive you of my bile, I'll try to show the Marians of the world every once in a while. Be warned though; Marian is significant simply because she is so rare. Teaching, like so many other jobs, is usually just a constant push against the collective stupidity of a group of people who'd much rather be anywhere else but school.

Reinterpretations of Emails Received and Sent

Dear Ms. RainyKate,
You gave me a bad grade, and I can't talk to you in person about it because I have other things to do. I didn't think I would get a bad grade, but I didn't think I would get a good grade either, even though I am an A student and made A's in high school. I did the assignment, even though I didn't focus, or use a thesis or anything; if you'd read my title, you'd see my main point, and I used lots of statistics and stuff, even though I wasn't supposed to use sources. And I only did bad because everybody was being loud, and you were yelling all the time at people, and I couldn't concentrate. I'm not blaming you, but I had to answer the grammar questions of people around me, even though I was supposed to be working, and not talking, but helping people doesn't make me part of the problem, and they were bothering me, so how else was I supposed to make 'em stop except to help them. Its not like I could say no to them or nothing.

Anyway, can I rewrite my paper?
Failing Student

Dear Failing Student:
Let me remind you that you earn grades; I don't just "give" them to you. Oh yeah, and all the yelling I was doing? I'm sure you mean, "Giving students instructions that were necessary to completing the paper" and "Asking one guy to turn off his cell phone" and "Trying to make all the goddamn yapping stop." But even if you don't, here's a hint: I DON'T FEEL SORRY FOR YOU! I know that's a shocker, but your pathetic little blame game, (despite the fact that you claim not to be blaming anyone) doesn't work with me. Life Sucks; get over it. You want people to leave you alone? Tell them to! There's another shock. If you don't let people walk all over you, they can't! OOOOO, I'm full of wisdom today. Oh, and you know what, when I bombed my history midterm my junior year because I made out with a boy all night the night before the test, I did not go blaming my teacher. I had my damn cry, and worked my ass off to make a 99 or 100 on every other assignment, including the final. It only got me a B, but damn, I was proud of that B. And here's a secret: that B did not stop me from succeeding. WOW! So how's about you suck it up, admit that you ignored all my comments on your rough draft, and make an A on the next paper.

Ugh,
Ms. RK

Its a Meatloaf Emergency!

I have let people leave my class early for the following reasons:
A sick child
Spitting up blood
A funeral
A wedding

So, today, God Lady (see previous posts) asks me if she could leave class early.
Me: Why?
GL: I need to go home and make meatloaf and boil corn on the cob for my mother's birthday party.
Me: Meatloaf does not constitute an emergency, but we'll probably get out of class early today anyway.
GL: Okay, I see. I don't have a reason. I'm just the only one who can cook in my family.

You know, her disrespect would really get on my nerves if it wasn't so damn funny.

Does this count as speaking in tongues?

I'm plodding through forty memory essays and would you believe that there's nothing even moderately amusing about them? I've never had such a dull bunch.

That being said, the student who capitalized "God" has included in her final draft some dialogue from our Lord. Did you know that the Creator speaks in fused sentences and comma splices? It's true!

Cheaters never win.

I just found my first case of plagiarism and I don't know what I'm most annoyed about, that this person just copied two websites for a ROUGH DRAFT, that the plagiarised information DID NOT fulfill the assignment, or that now I have a shit ton of paperwork to do to kick this person out of my class.

And I liked this student too. Fuck it all.

Let there be manners!

Ah, the joys of the community college.

I have a student in one of my classes who volunteered her age on the first day of class. She is, literally, twice my age, and is returning to school. This is fine. I can respect this. Unfortunately, she seems to have... ideas.

Let's begin with her paper, which is supposed to be a memory essay but turns out instead to be a sermon with all the references to a deity written in all capitals (except "Lord" interestingly enough) and her state of religious ecstasy described as "a plateau of realism." Really? So seeing God is like walking on a flat mountaintop surrounded by William Dean Howells? Who knew.

In addition to this well-intentioned but poorly wrought display of religiosity, I should describe to you her inability to tell the difference between discussing a text and criticizing the actions taken by the author of said text. I'm a bit afraid to put her in a workshop group, lest she try to cast out the demons of her partner.

But the straw that pushed her truly into the realm of the dreaded "omgyoumakemewanttoclawmyeyesouteverytimeIthinkaboutyourclass" student, was the following exchange:

Me, talking to another student who has an question: First I need you to look at pages 54 - 55, then -
Her: Ms. Rainykate, I was wondering why you go by Ms. instead of Mrs.
Me: *dumbfounded silent staring*
Other student: *annoyed eye rolling*
Me: Its just a choice, a personal one.
Her: Oh. I get it. Its private. *walks off*

Now, I am married, quite happily so, but in the classroom, in fact in all professional arenas, I feel much more comfortable going by Ms. I was truly indignant at this exchange, baffled as to why it mattered to her, and frustrated by the fact that, as her teacher, I could not provide her with the usual caustic response.

So, as those of you at universities sit around this evening, staring at the incomprehensible mess your 18 year olds have made of their papers, remember that at least they don't have ideals of religion and marriage that you need to live up to before you can be fully approved as an instructor.