We Recommend the Margarita. Actually A Couple of Them. Step Away From the Computer, And Go Get Something to Drink Right Now.

I'm wondering what to do with my life now that I don't think I can stand teaching any longer. My complaints, however, have less to do with the students themselves. I like them, in general. Sure, there are some who are lazy and some who are not ready (intellectually or emotionally) to be in college, but, for the most part, they are fairly enthusiastic when approached with my own enthusiasm.

Herein lies the rub; I cannot stand the crap that goes along with teaching. I hate the meetings about how many pens we need to buy (who cares?). I hate the meetings where colleague A has to ask a question that clearly ONLY pertains to her and about which I have to listen for an extra 20 minutes when I could be grading / reading / writing / running / sleeping / drinking a margarita / doing any other damned thing I please.

I hate the paperwork and the not-even-thinly-disguised "students as customers with a return policy" thing that allows my students to drop my class during the LAST week of classes!!!! Why the hell should Joe Student be able to "return" 14 weeks of my time and effort? That's time and effort I could have been spending on Jane Student, or again, on myself. The school's desire to rope that sucker student into having to pay for my class again is unethical on so many levels that it makes me want to tell all of my students up front on day one that retaking the class simply because you didn't like your grade is playing right into their hands. And sometimes I even DO say that.

My thoughts are, that when I actually calculate how many hours I spend in administrative meetings etc., and work that into the salary, I really am getting bilked myself. And hell, if I'm going to have to sit in meetings and listen to marketing plans (thinly described as retention management), I might as well get a 9-5 job that PAYS a lot more.

But the sad part is, I love the teaching part and I'd really, really miss my students. There's no real way out of my cage; is there?

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Post-Script
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An interested reader sends in this terrific advice as a follow-up to today's posting:

• always bring grading to any meeting with more than 10 people
• never be on a committee with fewer than 10 people

One Big Crazy Freaking List of Suggestions Designed to Make the Classroom Better...Really...We're Not Joking. This is Stuff People Send Us.

Recently we've been getting lots of lists, lists of things students should do in order to be more successful, lists of things faculty member should stick up their asses because we're notoriously (or famously?) tight-assed - at least in the view of the modern and hip students who apparently aren't.

We've decided to put together a compilation list of advice for students, drawing from several submissions. If you'd like to play a game, try to guess which of these are real, which are phony and fun, and which were composed by people who need to start doubling up on the meds. You'd be discouraged at how many are real suggestions from students and faculty. We won't even bother telling you.

1. Go to every class. Being present is often more important than being a good student. You'll pick up a lot just from being there. It's important never to miss class. Missing class is okay, as long as you do the work that is assigned. Call the professor before you miss class. Call the professor after you miss class.
2. Do all the assigned readings before class. If you read in class, you won't be able to highlight the things the lecturer says. Read aloud all of your assignments to a roommate or friend. Do the assigned readings in a quiet space. Do all reading in your normal study environment. Try to stay after class and read before going to the cafeteria or your afternoon job.
3. Do the homework as close to the time of class as possible, so that the material will be fresh in your head. Do the homework the night before. Do the homework with a classmate. Do any homework after showing a rough draft to the instructor. Type all homework. Keep your homework in a binder.
4. Do professional-quality work. Type your assignments. Make them look good. The appearance of your final project is more important than the content. Do not worry about typing formats. The content of your work is far more important than its presentation.
5. Use standard English spelling, grammar, and usage. You look terrible if you don't, because they really do help communication. If you need help, a copy of The Elements of Style by W. Strunk Jr. and E. B. White costs only about $8 on eBay.
6. If you can't get to class, go to the professor's office and ask for help. If your professor doesn't have any office hours listed, go to the office of the Dean of the University or the Chair of the Department to request the hours.
7. Be organized. Enjoy your youth and party hard, but only on the weekends. Manage your time effectively. Always have something to write with and on. Don't let time get away from you. Don't forget to enjoy each sunrise.
8. Make sure you keep your phone set to vibrate.
9. If you need to use the bathroom, just go. This isn't high school.
10. Don't sell your books at the end of the semester. Don't buy your books until it's clear which books your teacher is actually using. Buy your books on half.com. Don't buy used books. Buy only used books. Find books in the library. Don't write in your book. Write in the margins of all of your books.

photo from http://apple.qj.net/

This is the Kind of Posting That Makes Us Want To Chew On a Pistol and Create a New Tenure Track Position At Our College

So. Let's talk about this grade thing. First off, let's get one thing clear. I am a rock-star student. I am the person who understands allegory and allusion as well as computers and circuits. I am the person to whom you refer other students for help. I am the person who speaks up in class--better yet, I bring up other, related avenues of intellectual inquiry instead of going, "huh, when did you say the midterm was?"


I come to your office hours to continue our discussions, and what's more, I have a clue when I do. My papers are sparkling examples of intellect and wit, effortlessly mixing both the classics and pop-culture references. My writing makes you laugh! And occasionally cry! And then nod your head and say, "wow, great point!"

What's more, I work my adorable little tush off. I am finishing a double major baccalaureate degree in two and a half years. I average a load of 23 credits. I work 20-30 hours a week, depending on projects at work. When my cell phone goes off (on vibrate) in class and I leave to answer it (which has happened once in two years), it's my employer, and the shit has just hit one hell of a fan.

With very few exceptions, you all love me. Many of you want to adopt me, or at least give me a big, warm, fuzzy hug. Then you would like to clone me. Because in addition to all of the above, I smile and I learn your name and I show up to class and I talk to you about your day and your other interests instead of treating you as a faceless, unimportant professorimaton.

For most of you, I love you back. As a rule, I think you're a pretty awesome group of people. I definitely think you should get the hell out, because 1) you don't have tenure and you never will because of school policies, 2) the engineers just don't get your subjects, and 3) you can do way better than this midwestern city. With that said, I'm honestly grateful that you don't. At least not until I finish my degree. Then, hell, man, flee! Flee like the wind! I know I will.

But loving you and thinking that you're awesome doesn't mean that I won't ask about a grade if I can't understand why I got it. Will I be an asshole about it? No. Will I even argue for you to change it? No, I won't. But if I don't understand why I got that B, if there are no comments or feedback, or if what's there doesn't make sense to me, I will ask you. If you can back it up, then hey, awesome, no problem. I still love you. I'll take my lumps, learn from the experience, and knock you out on the next assignment.

However, there's a little principle I live by: if you can't explain why it's *not* an A, then it *is* an A. Now, I don't expect a comprehensive analysis. I know that you're busy, I know that you've got lots to do, and I know that a lot of an A is indeed that wow-factor. But the other eight professors I have this term say that my work does have that wow-factor, and suddenly you disagree? Yeah, I'd like to know why, and I'm going to find out. "This just didn't have the punch." "This just didn't have the insight." One of those are good enough.

But if you write "Excellent!!!" at the bottom, then put a B at the top, with no intervening comments, I will come and ask you, and you had best be prepared to defend your answer. If you can't defend your answer, and you don't do something about it, *then* the fangs come out. Yes, I care about learning. No, I'm not just here for the piece of paper. College has done a lot for me; it's opened my mind to several subjects I love, it's connected me with some really interesting people. But do I worry about GPA? Yes, I do, and for that I won't apologize. I'm most probably going to graduate school after this. My GPA is on my resume. As of the end of spring term, I was .01 point away from summa cum laude, and yes, I want to wear the honor cords when I walk across the stage. I think I've earned that. And 99% of my professors agree. If you don't? If you think that we're supposed to foster an air of intellectual discourse in the classroom, then *not* discuss the very assignments that are intended to further it? If you were grading late one night and transposed a quiz grade, making my curve-breaking A into a B? If you think that not being a "grade-grubber" demands that I silently accept any of the above? Then yes, you are wrong.

Or perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps, much like the hokey-pokey, shutting up and taking whatever mark you're handed back (even if you don't understand it) *is* what it's all about. But I don't think so. Not only that, but I think most of you will agree with me. We're not so far apart, you and I; we both want students to learn. Here, I wanted to write "so detach the hostility surrounding questions about grades"... but that's not really fair, is it?

I know I'm exceptional. I know that the vast majority of students who dispute their grades are not like me and do not act like me. I've seen it. I've heard it. I've been told about it by some of my current professors. And I have no doubt that if I do go to graduate school, I'll experience it first-hand. So given what you're asked to deal with, the hostility is fair and even apropos. Why am I writing this, then? Because there are always exceptions, and I am one of the exceptions. Rant all you want about the other 99% (Dog knows I do, too), but be open to said exceptions when they come along. Oh, and one last request.

Can you tell that guy simultaneously clicking his pen, tapping his foot, and chewing his gum to shut the bloody hell up?


photo from http://www.starmgc.com/

From A Lonely Math Teacher On the Front Line

I, up until the point I found this site, seriously believed that my sorrow over the fact that the vast majority of my students are spoiled-rotten, grade-grubbing, wastes-of-oxygen was mine alone to bear. Imagine my surprise at finding out that others encounter the same problems. In reading all of this, I find comfort in knowing I am not alone.

So why do I keep doing it? Even when the sorrow sometimes makes me want to crawl into a corner and work on logic puzzles for a month? Because it has to be done. If I can affect just one student in every class, every year, then those students will become people who are more literate, who understand logic, who can engage in critical thinking, and who appreciate learning for the sake of bettering one's mind rather than learning solely for the practical applications, or worse for the sake of a GPA. If I walk away, there is no one left to fight the good fight.

The entryway to Plato's garden, where any young man wishing to become a leader of society came to study, said "Let no man destitute of mathematics enter here." Abraham Lincoln, on his own, studied the first ten books of Euclid in order to become "a better thinker." Some time since then education has become about job training rather than about enlightenment. I don't care if my students become engineers using multivariable calculus or housewives who balance checkbooks. I want them to study mathematics so that they learn the difference between deductive and inductive reasoning, so they learn how to communicate their reasoning, so they learn how to ask the right questions to solve a problem, so they recognize faulty logic enough not to be swayed by drivel they read in the news.

Despite the enormous pressure from kids, their parents, administrators, and even my colleagues, who all want me to give good grades to kids who show up and learn nothing, I refuse and I stay. In my class, grades are earned by demonstrating what you know and a C means adequate. Period. And while the other teachers are waving away kids with questions because they need to run off their scantrons and go home, I'll help students who want to learn and spend my free time giving individual, written feedback to each and every one of my students on their open-ended problems.

I believe in what I am doing and no amount of pressure is going to change what I hold so dear. Those handful of students I send out into the world each year, who understand the difference between learning and sitting, will hopefully become the people who will run the world someday, who will invent things to make my old age easier, who will take up the fight when I am gone, and who raise children with the same values. Somebody has to do it else we are doomed.

photo from https://www.appalmsp.org/