At Least She's Got Some Ambition

Cherry has not put forth much effort this semester. She had fairly regular attendance for the first several weeks of the semester. Then she missed the first exam. I told her I would make an exception this one time: I would allow her to make up the exam (in essay format) with a 50% penalty, and she should not expect this kind of leniency ever again.

Eight weeks later, she still hasn't made up the exam.

Then she failed to turn in her first term paper. Nearly one week after the due date, she emailed me her paper. When she came to class, she inquired as to whether I had received her paper. I told her that I could not accept it unless she had some documentation excusing her absence. "Fine, if that's how you're going to be..." she muttered before storming out of the classroom.

I hadn't seen or heard from her until yesterday. I received an email from her apologizing for missing class and telling me she probably wouldn't be able to make any of the remaining classes. Why? Because she is a "gamer." She plays video games for a living, and, as she explained in the email, she is doing very well in her career. She is doing so well that she has been traveling all over the U.S. for tournaments, which prevents her from attending class. She hopes that I can understand that she needs to do this, and she will try her best to turn in work on time.

Let it All Out. We Come Here to Feel Better. If It Helps To Tell Them to Catch a Greyhound, Then We're Right There With You!

• No, sweetie, you cannot take the final now that you missed it. I'm sorry that your scatter brained roommate told you the final was tomorrow and not yesterday. The exam schedule was published at the beginning of the semester and the exam time was announced about five times in class. The fact that you can't read, listen or use a computer on your own tells me something. Oh, and please make good on your threat and leave the college. Your five professors of this most recent semester will buy you a bus ticket.


• I really am sorry that you are experiencing personal difficulties this semester that are causing you to behave in an academically uncharacteristic manner. I’m sure you’ve been an academic powerhouse in every other course you’ve ever taken, but, in my class you suck. I don’t consider your past performance in other classes to be reason enough to spend time coming up with (and grading) “extra assignments” for you when you have not demonstrated the ability to complete “the” assignments. You know, the ones the rest of the class did.


• I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how to make “it” any clearer. I don’t even know why you don’t get “it.” The rest of the class gets “it.” I’m not telling them anything different than I’m telling you. In fact, I’m telling you more because you come to office hours or approach me after class. I’m happy to do that, though. I will not, however, prepare extra special notes just for you, that spells “it” out exactly as it will appear on the final. I’ve walked you through “it” many, many times. I’m afraid if you still don’t get “it”, you will just have to accept that you will get that question wrong on the final and move on with your life.


• Twice now you have made appointments with me to come to my office to “discuss your paper.” Twice now you have stood me up like an ugly prom date. I don’t really mind as I have other work to do, but please don’t email me after final grades are posted asking why you got a D and begging me to change your grade. My answer will be no.


• I know that you're planning on graduating this semester, but when I repeatedly tell you that you have something wrong and need to change it, and then you steadfastly refuse to do so because that would necessitate more work for you, you forfeit my sympathy. Trying to take the "easy way out" on your senior thesis is not a good idea.


• Hey, jackass, your golf coach sends around a list of all the days you are permitted by the college to miss class for golf. Therefore I am QUITE SURE that those other 5 or so days (making it 13 in total) you missed for golfing must have been FOR FUNSIES. Or sleeping. Or drunk. Don't care. Unexcused.


• "But, Professor! I didn't plagiarize! I paid someone to write the essay for me, and that person plagiarized!"


• Yes, my late penalties are stiff but I have laid them out in the syllabus, which you received on the first day of class and is also available on the webpage. You were gracious enough to admit that you had no good reason your paper was late. It was “personal reasons” and not excusable. I admired you for your candor. However, this is a small campus and I also heard that you were drunk off your proverbial arse Friday night, unable to get out of bed for an athletic team trip Saturday morning, making them late for the game. Was the assignment a "waste of time" as you said before you tossed it into the garbage can? Why yes, it was. For me.


• A student came to me after a report was due and said he wasn't able to turn it in on time because he couldn't get it printed. Our school had just switched from a free-printing campus to a pay-per-print campus, so some students got caught unawares that they had to now pay for printing. In an effort to be helpful, I told the student that he could print the report out on my printer. He replied, "Oh, I haven't written it yet."


• Okay, I admit it. This was a film class. We watched films, discussed films, researched films, critiqued films. How absolutely mean of me to show a film for the final exam on which you would be tested. I know, I am a son of a bitch.


• I'm awfully glad you love Jesus and want everyone else to love him like you do. The paper was not on Jesus but on Islam. Can you understand that? It was a World Religions course and not a course in loving Jesus. Your paper never mentioned Islam once. That's why you got an F and not because I hate Jesus.

Season of the Plagiarists

It's that time of the semester again: desperate students resort to plagiarism though they've been warned of the penalties all semester. At first, I feel bad for them, but then, as the e-mails start pouring in, I'm reminded of that scene in Casablanca, the one where Claude Rains' character - the deliciously despicable Captain Renault - says, "I'm shocked. SHOCKED...that gambling is going on here" as he is being handed his winnings by the croupier.

Of the six plagiarists I caught in one class, five immediately e-mailed me to beg for a meeting to explain why he or she didn't plagiarize (though I have a copy of the crappy, free on-line essay with the plagiarized passages highlighted for each of the plagiarists). Four of these began their e-mails with the words, "I'm shocked!" Really. They could have at least had the good grace to be ashamed.

My favorite e-mail, dripping with unconscious irony and lapses in logic, suggested that the student has plagiarized on many papers in other classes, but his crime was simply made note of in the comments at the end of his essay. Though he's just admitted that he plagiarizes all the time, he follows this with the comment that he's never had an issue with cheating before, and he is shocked to be accused of it. He also laments that all his work has now gone to waste - not because he plagiarized, but because I reported it.

Just once I would like to receive a plagiarist's e-mail that says something like, "What must you think of me? I cheated, and you caught me. I am embarrassed and ashamed, and I apologize for putting you in this position."

I discovered the plagiarism five days ago. I have lost five days when I needed to be grading essays and exams, but instead have been dealing with the bureaucracy of plagiarism and the endless e-mails from students who cheated, but refuse to accept their penalty. On top of that, I know from experience that when I see these plagiarists in the halls next semester, they will give me the venom-filled stares of victimhood.

Seriously, If We Want Things To Get Better, We Really Must Start Sending These Unsent Letters

Dear undergraduate who constantly interrupted me during the conference that I was generous enough to give you, outside of my normal office hours, for half an hour:

I'm not sure why you think it's acceptable to interrupt. Didn't anyone teach you that it was rude? You'll notice that I don't interrupt you, even when your opinionated generalizations took over parts of our class. I steer you politely and firmly back on topic, because I have stuff to do in that class. Because I'm your instructor. Remember that bit? Where I'm supposed to teach you things? That's one reason why you shouldn't interrupt.

Let me make that more obvious for you. We are not peers. I am ten years older than you. I'm willing to be friendly. I'm not willing to be interrupted by a little gobshite like you. I have two more degrees than you. Two. Having read your academic writing in all its forms for three months now, I can say with certainty that I know more about how to write an essay than you. You could really use my advice about how to structure these paragraphs, and how to adjust your tone. Trust me, you could.

No, really! After all, I'm the one who's going to grade this on Tuesday. Don't you think that my advice about how to transition might be useful? You'll think it when you see my comments under your final grade, including the one that says: You need to work on your transitions.

In conclusion: Don't talk over me when I'm talking, and don't interrupt when I'm doing you a massive favour. You don't know better, trust me. And you are extremely rude.

Sincerely,
Your underpaid instructor.