Saturday, December 31, 2005

Frosty Fran Lights a Fire.

A community college professor in the liberal arts in a cold state sends these along:

"Mr. Smith"
Attention Span: like a puppy
Intelligence: doubtful
Arrogance: Significant

If you want a fight on your hands, make a comment that this student's one-paragraph, 3 page long paper is "poorly written." He'll tell you that the writing is fine; it is just a problem of form.

"Ms. Waterworks"
Ability to comprehend: doubtful
Future career: grocery store clerk
Opinion of herself: way higher than she deserves

Crying seems to work on other people, but not on me. The fact of the matter is that you didn't want to take the late penalty for your paper with the missing golden paragraphs, and you didn't like the grade the paper got without them. Next time I have a couple of suggestions: 1) get your shit together. 2) Don't tell your professor that this paper got an A in your Sociology class.

"Ms. Florida"
Attendance: just enough to stay in the class
Intelligence: my dumb cat is smarter
Judgement: poor

This one wants to leave in the middle of the 75 minute class, and doesn't realize that it is a disruption every time. I'm sure you "had to" go on vacation in Florida with your "family" Thanksgiving week -- which must not include your own SISTER, who is also in my class and was in class that week.

"Mr. ADD"
Attention Span: shorter than any student I've had
Judgement: poor

If you like students who are disruptive and want to watch "Family Guy" DVDs on their computers in class, this one is for you.

Hygiene: poor
Integrity: low
Snarkyness: high Watch out for this one.

He'll cut you down with administration behind your back while smiling at you. He wants to be a politician and if all things are equal, he'll end up a used car salesman. Avoid small-group situations with this one.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Mike From Milwaukee.

Mike, a tenure-track professor at a private college in Milwaukee sends along these suggestions:

You can call me Mike. I'm five years into a career and I've been reading this page with real interest for a couple of weeks. It occurs to me that some simple and straight forward thinking might be the key for getting students and faculty on the same team. I confess that I've been cheering on a lot of the posters here. I, too, get frustrated with students, their insolence, their lack of respect, their lack of desire. But, I'm at the start of a long career, and I'd hate to think it will get worse instead of better. So, let me make 3 modest proposals.

  1. Students will take their leads from us. If we coddle them, they will learn to run over us. If we expect little, that's we get. If we try to win their friendship (in lieu of respect), we'll be friendly but not effective. So, whatever it is you want to be, be it. Whatever you really want out of class, lead that way.
  2. Students have short attention spans. There's no use denying it. But, long term learning requires a different sort of approach. If our field interests us, we have to find a way to plug our students into it. Maybe it's more technology. But at the very least it means we have to start each semester strong, impressing upon each student that there is work to be done, that it will be rewarding, and that we will all need to do our share.
  3. Even though I only have a few years in the business, I know that I walk into a new class with ghosts of the old classes haunting me. My own main goal for next semester is to go in fresh. I'm not going to let disappointments from previous students or semesters weigh me down. I'm going to go in with new eyes, with a new heart, and see if I can make it work.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

A Junior From Jersey.

A junior Business major at a public college in New Jersey sends this along this evening. I think it's a fantastic post, maybe the best one I've received since starting this project. She makes several excellent points, and her statements all bring echoes to me of other students I've had in the past, young men and women who truly don't deserve to be judged so harshly. Her post makes me think a lot about what we're doing here at RYS. Let me know what you think by writing me: rateyourstudents AT hotmail DOT com:

Listen, THE PROFESSOR, if you really want to understand what it's like to have professors like you grade us, rate us, poke us and prod us every day, take a walk in my shoes.

My Bio teacher tells us on every test that there are at least 2 right answers for every question, and that one is "better." Does that seem fair to you? Not me either.

My major field advisor is a stinking drunk, and I mean stinking. I can smell his scotch or whatever every time I walk in to his office. I have to smile so he fills out my forms even though he makes me sick to my stomach.

My Psychology professor tries to look up my skirt when I wear one. He hardly even pretends to do it casually. He's a married man, and old enough to be my dad. And because I can't possibly say anything against him - I'll flunk - I have to act like it doesn't bother me. I am physically ill every day before that class, and I'm glad I'll never have to see him again. But I bet there's another one like him waiting for me next semester.

I sleep in a dorm room with a girl who barfs three times a day, and who I can't report because I'm afraid she'll kill herself. I have a suitemate who screws her boyfriend after dorm hours and I can't say anything about that because her dad gave the college a ton of money and I don't need to be any more of an outsider than I am.

I can only schedule classes at weird times because of the incredibly clogged network. So on MWF I have a class at 8 am, noon, and 4 pm. How am I supposed to get a work schedule at the Kohl's if I can't get away from campus for a few hours in a row. Yes, I pay for a lot of my school myself, and I have to work in order to come here.

So, while you're all getting your jollies picking on students, please realize we're not all the same, and not all of us deserve your scorn.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

A Mini Manifesto From Maine.

A tenured professor in the arts at a public college in Maine sends this along:

Okay, if we're going to be all feel-goody for next year, here are some rules I want the students to play by:

If I ask you to read a book, or go to a gallery, or watch a video, I really mean it. It's not just some random thought I've had. My assignments are designed to raise your level of knowledge. If I assign it, it's a real thing. It's not just being all ‘teacherly.’

When someone else is talking in class, addressing class - even if it's me - that means you are to shut your pie hole and listen in. When I ask you a question, I'm asking a serious question, one that has to do with your ability to pass the class. It's not optional. It's not as if I said, ‘Uh, Marcella, if you don't want to I'll understand, but would you care to tell me what you know about cubism?’ I mean, ‘Tell me what you know about cubism from my handouts, the textbook, the film I showed, and the gallery we walked through for 2 hours last week.

Your life in this class hangs in the balance.’ I think my field, my class, and my life work is important. When you make fun of it, or tell me that you just took this class for fun because it's so much easier than your major, it makes me think you're an idiot. And that's not really what you want out of this relationship.”

Our classes end at 50 or 30 minutes past the hour, depending on the class and the day. I can keep you in your desks until that time if I choose. When it's 9:45, and you're hungry, or Mitch is waiting at the Commons, I really don't want to hear you start shuffling around and slamming stuff into your bookbag. If I cheated you out of 30 seconds on a test, you'd likely call the Dean's office.

I won't know your final grade for the semester until nearly the end of the semester. Your grade up until that point - you should imagine - is an F. You have to WORK to earn a grade. You have NOTHING at the beginning, and you have you do work in here to EARN points and EARN a grade. If you ask me in week three what your grade is, it's going to be an F. It'll be an F until about the 13th week. There's no way in the world I'm going to GUESS a grade for you so that you can relax and concentrate on Economics or something.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Professor Signals For a Fair Catch.

A tenured professor at a college in Alabama sends this:

In my office today were three junior football players, all recent flunkies of my freshman level course.

Because of these Fs, all three are facing eligibility problems. (I go to 2-3 games each year, and have nothing against athletes.) They all face these eligibility issues because they only register for 12 hours a semester, and with my F, they now are below the athletic cutoff. This is supposed to be my problem.

In the 2 1/2 years they've each been on campus, they have a total of 60 hours each. They are a hair under halfway through a degree, and not even on target to finish in 5 years. Of course, that's impolitic for me to point out, but nevertheless they were in my office exactly 30 seconds afer the athletic advisor called me to tell me they HAD to pass; it wasn't something that the program or the athletes could accept.

#1 ended up with a 44 average. D is a 60, C is a 70. #2 had a 50. And #3 had a 15. Student #3 was a mystery to me when he walked in, as my records show he attended 5 of my 30 meetings, each time appearing on a quiz day and scoring the occasional right answer.

Where, oh where, am I supposed to find the extra points? Where am I supposed to draw the line?

Friday, December 9, 2005

Wisconsin Lowers the Boom.

An English instructor from Wisconsin sends in our rating of the week!

I thought that, like a partner in an arranged marriage, I could learn to like, or at least tolerate, a well-paid, secure, unionized teaching position with excellent benefits. But no, not here. At the Wisconsin college where I teach, the collective density of our students creates an intellectual black hole where anything resembling brains is sucked away through a rip in space-time. By summer, I feel dumber. And to those who’ve contributed to my malaise (since I got a late start, some past transgressors included):

To E:
As an English teacher, I’m not sure of the precise clinical term. You’re nutso. Barmy, daft, dotty, bats, loony, loopy, spooky-crazy, crackers, or bananas. Take your pick. If caught with you in my class again, I would chew my leg off to escape.
Density: Uranium.
Hotness: -20 (you could scare the maggots off a gut-wagon).
Your opinion of your abilities: 3 (to write a novel, you should first read one).

To N:
An objective test where the class average was 82 and you scored 63 doesn’t evince racism. Your choice, after numerous examples of introductory techniques and discussion of these, to begin your speech “Mines is on alcohol” was truly doltish.
Density: 5 fence posts.
Hotness: 0.
Your opinion of your abilities: 5

To M:
The C+ you received on your essays was a gift. You’ve attended only half the classes, haven’t cracked a book at all, don’t follow the guidelines for the assignment, and are as familiar with an English sentence as you are with the insides of your own kidneys.
Density: 4 fence posts.
Hotness: 2.
Your opinion of your abilities: 5.

To G:
My pity. I truly doubt that you could read this. In fact, I truly doubt that you have opposable thumbs.
Density: Off-scale; skull has its own gravitational field.
Hotness: -2.
Your opinion of your abilities: 1.

To B:
You dispel the notion that a radio personality must have an actual personality. Well, maybe, if asshole is a personality . . . I lied when I told you it was okay to repeat my class after you flunked it the first time. Who would actually do that?
Density: 2.
Hotness: 2
Your opinion of yourself: Off-scale.

Thursday, December 8, 2005

In a Hurry In Indiana.

A non-tenure-track instructor in Business from a medium sized regional university in Indiana fires off this quickie:

Huzzah, Professor.
You are doing the right thing. My last minute ratings for Fall 05 are as follows.

H: Think Gumby. Be flexible. Don't get tied up in what your high school rules were.

M: Turn off the waterworks in the professor's office. Nobody believes it.

T: Tolerance for other people. Try that new fangled attitude and you'll be better off.

O: You go, girl. But shut up when someone else is talking. Love the attitude. But small doses go a long way.

P: Help yourself by opening a textbook when you take this class next semester. Didn't think so, right? Well, it is what it is.

Tuesday, December 6, 2005

Wacky in Wichita.

A full time professor at a college in Wichita sends this along:

Dear Kiddies,

Here come my Christmas presents.

Wild Wendy, here's a bra that fits. Timid Terry, here's a heart - don't be afraid to use it, or at least show it. Thick Tommy, look, over there, it's a rainbow! Or maybe it's a unicorn. Go sketch it and leave the work to the rest of us Mean Miranda, here's a lump of coal. Mean Mitch, here's one for you, too, but this one has a jagged edge I hope you snag your finger on. Randy Randy, tell your girlfriend to not only write your essays, but also to answer in class for you next semester; it's your only hope. Meek Melanie, here's a dose of courage. Drink deep and trust yourself from now on. Mild Michael, a little courage for you, too. You're worthy and you deserve to take a stand for what you believe in. Arrogant Archie, here are the keys to a brand new Cadillac, just like your dad's. Who needs college?

Merry Christmas,
Your Old Professor Pal

(who is now eager to eggnog it all the way to 2006)

Sunday, December 4, 2005

Something from Santa Fe.

A community college instructor from Santa Fe sends this along:

Hotness: 0
Intelligence: 0
Ability to Depress: 10
You are too dumb to walk upright.

Hotness: 11
Intelligence: 5
Ability to Depress: 0
You should immediately go to the registrar's office and sign up for my 201 class next semester. We're going to continue studying the human form. Sure, this is a Business class, but at least *I* will continue to study the human form.

Hotness: 4
Intelligence: 9
Ability to Depress: 10
Why won't you just tell those friends of yours to get lost. If they don't want you to go to college, then how can you think they're really watching your back? You're a smart kid, too smart to stay in the life your friends seem to be stuck in. Keep striving. Keep working. This place is working for you, and the benefits are going to be lifelong!

Thursday, December 1, 2005

Texas Gets Into It.

A tenured faculty member in Art at a large state university in Texas says:

At the end of the semester, the devilish students finally get the stones to come to the office, beg for forgiveness, ask for extra credit. I say a pox on all of them. Don't you read the syllabus? Don't you listen in class? Don't you read the daily bulletin board I send around electronically? Why do you assume that I'll hold your hand in the waning moments of the semester just because you're too damaged from TV, sugar, and glue?

It may be impolitic to say these things, but students today are too entitled and too precious. I've seen colleagues roll over and take it up the ass from these awful, demented, and lazy students for too long. Don't do the work? Pay the price.

See you next semester, kiddies.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Vermont Sticks Out Her Chin.

A tenure-track professor at a private college in Vermont says this:

What a travesty. All of these supposedly erudite professors slamming innocent students. It's enough to make me ashamed of the profession. Why not encourage rather than discourage? I will never visit this site again, and I will tell all of my colleagues to avoid it as well.


Sunday, November 27, 2005

A Quickie From Indiana.

A tenured professor of History in South Bend sends this:

R: Avoid this student if you can. She spends more on eyeliner than she does on textbooks. She wears more face powder than a 60 year old stripper. She believes she's destined for greatness. She's destined to work at a laundromat.

J: Run if you see this guy coming to your class. His deadpan delivery masks a completely empty brainpan. He's slow moving, slow thinking, and slow to pick up on the death ray stares he gets from his peers when he opens his mouth in class.

M: Flat out mean and ungracious young woman. Will kill any spirit you have in one conversation.

S: Inflated ego. Can't understand a word he says because of his accent. Would be a good student if he'd spend less time dipping Skoal and more time dipping into the textbook.

W: Funny kid, but wouldn't work if you put a gun to his head. Thinks he's entitled. Will fully earn the D he's getting in my class.

Peace. Out.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Bursting with Love - or Maybe Turkey - Someone from Minnesota Finishes a Set of Essays.

A tenure-track asst. prof of English in Minnesota sends this along:

Dear Students,

I've just spent half of yesterday and all of this morning going through your latest essays. They're horrid. Each one of you has disappointed me in some essential way. I hold each early draft and finished draft next to each other, remember the conversations we had about working on the paper, developing it, and then I read the final draft and see NONE of those changes, none of those revisions. It's as if I gave 2 conference days to you for no reason other than to give myself a chance to make my cold worse. Why do you think I offer suggestions? Why do I ask questions about your work? Why do I care more for your essays than you do?

I'm through with that. From now on, starting with this set - where the grades are nearly all failing - I'm going to grade you on your performance. I have been lax with all of you. I grade based on the fuzzy potential you bring to the class. I grade based on the feel-good messages I get from our admissions committee about what great kids we have. But that's all been a lie.

As a group, you're lazy, unmotivated, and you are eager to lie to my face about the most minor of matters. You treat me with such casual disrespect - tardiness, phony stories about missing class, casual plagiarism - and yet you - and your parents - expect me to treat you like rare geniuses in my care.

Fuck that. You work hard or you suffer the consequences. I've been a fool for letting it go on this long, playing the game, acting like my colleagues who think passing everyone means they've chosen the right profession. But I'm through. Work hard or suffer. And it starts today. I'll give these papers back Monday and you'll have a chance to fix them, to spend some actual time on them. I'll want real revisions, not a handful of corrections.

This is not a warning. This is the start of something real.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

A Pre-Turkey Message From Missouri.

A non-tenure-track assistant prof in Kinesiology at a public college near St. Louis sends this:

Oh, C, I know Thanksgiving is the only time of the year when your uncles and aunts can come in from Indiana. But what on earth does that have to do with a Tuesday morning class? The college gives you 1/2 a day Wednesday and all of Thursday and Friday off. You live within 10 miles of campus. You have the weekend, too? Are you telling me you got up at 7 am, packed, and went home, and you couldn't stay on campus for a 9 am class? Priorities are great. If family means more, then make family your priority.

But you're dreaming if you think 25 of the rest of us just met because we have no family we'd rather be with. This, along with all of your other "sick days" and "flat tires," makes it so difficult for me to take time out of my own schedule to catch you up. By the way, what kind of roads do you drive where you get flat tires at a higher rate than any other student on campus? Oh well. Say hi to your uncle for me.

Monday, November 21, 2005

We Break Our Canadian Cherry And It's Fun.

A full time professor from a university in western Canada sends these along:

N: Exactly what else did you expect to get when you fail to attend all lectures, and spend most of the exam time, me?

B: I really don't give a shit about your girlfriend, how some minor point I made in class pertains to your life, or any of of the hundreds of boring anecdotes you manage to blurt out in the time it takes for me to run from the classroom (and you) to my office for that "important meeting." Maybe if you had actually passed any of my tests, I might have seen your banter as something more than a weak attempt to befriend me in the hopes that I wouldn't give you the F you so richly deserve (and, in the end, will receive).

S: You wearing the mini skirt to my office hours gave me quite a thrill, but don't mistake me for one of the brain-dead frat-brats you so easily seduce every weekend....this isn't a reality show, so you still get the grade you deserve.

T: 'Thinking beyond the material' doesn't excuse you from knowing it in the first place.

S: I didn't even know who you were (in my class of 200) until you showed up to complain that I was being a racist by "awarding" you an F. Lots of white folks got Fs in my class too.

A Short one From Stillwater.

A tenured faculty member at Oklahoma State sends this:

T - You drain the life out of every class. You have the worst attitude of any student I've met in more than 10 years in the classroom. You think you're entitled to half the class time to solve your problems, when your problems are all created out of your laziness and inattention. Do you think it's fair for everyone in class to suffer because you can't pay attention to minor or major announcements, handouts, and lectures? You are absolutely decreasing the value of this class for everyone in it - even me. Every Tuesday afternoon is the worst trial for me because I know you will barrage us all with the story of how your car get stolen, or your printer blew up and there's no toner in 5 states that works with it. My favorite story of yours was how your uncle had an operation on his toe and the whole family gathered in Norman for it. You missed two classes for that. Do you imagine that I'm stupid? I am sick of you, sick of your face, and if I can just make it through 6 more classes I'll never have to see you again.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Three Quick Blasts From a New Friend in Illinois.

A full professor at a public university in Chicago says:

Here are mine. Add them to the bunch, and color me as a bad guy, too, if that's what's required.

L: You drive everyone insane with the endless caterwauling about your rights. You're 20. You have serious things coming up. Right now someone is housing, feeding, and teaching you, mostly on the state's dime. So shut up.

R: I can't wait to see you at Long John Silver's in a couple of years. I'm going to spray tartar sauce on you after you give me my change. (Oh, and if you think teaching is such a fucking joke, why don't you teach your hair to lay down flat.)

O: You're sensitive. I get it. Bursting into tears when a C+ comes down the pike, however, is not endearing. What would be endearing is if you saved your modest strength for actually doing the reading for a test.

Kentucky Checks In, and I'd Recommend Breaking the Tablets in Half.

A visiting professor from a public university in Kentucky sends this:

Cut the kids some slack, Professor. They are for the most part, funny, sensitive naifs who will surely amount to something great if we nurture and care for them. I was lost as a young man, and caring and sensitive teachers helped me find my own way. Your site is hurtful, but I can imagine your distrust of a system you clearly have been in for too many years.

Give yourself and your students a fresh start. See them with new eyes. They are wondrous creations, and all of us who are called to teaching need to welcome them and help them discover their goodness.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Wendy is Smitten With Us.

"Wendy," a full time tenure-track professor of art in a public university in Wyoming, sends this along:

You are a doll. Are you a woman? A man? I bet you're sexy. You're funny. I wish you would write more. You let the guests be the star of your show, and really we'd like to know more about you. Do you have more photos? That's a cute top. I want to know how soft your hands are.

Oh, wheee. I've gotten off track. Here's my rating for today.

A: Your lips make me wish we were in Barbados. But your paintings blow. How's that?

'Wendy' in Wyoming.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Someone in Pennsylvania is Enjoying a Temporary Job.

A non-tenure-track visiting prof in Religion at a private Pennsylvania college has this to say:

RM spends more time seeking the attention of the classroom than she ever spends doing any actual good for the class. Every comment is designed to draw attention to herself and her many many opinions - all of them poorly formed. When she talks I close my eyes and sigh to myself, hoping the bright students in front will see and do something to help me. Can't anyone shut her up? I know I should be compassionate and welcoming, like our college's mission statement, but all I want to do is flunk her and get out of this place.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

A Quick one From Florida.

A tenured faculty member in Philosophy at a Baptist college in Florida writes:

I wish this site didn't have to exist. But I also hate what I see over at Rate My Professor, where students with no idea what it means to be a professor get to lay siege to people's teaching, research, even their life choices. It's a disgusting movement in modern culture, this anger, this entitlement, this disregard for respect. We debase ourselves by taking part.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

We Finally Hear From Oregon, and Boy, Is it Mad.

An adjunct professor in Oregon sends this along:

I am going to strangle you, R, the next time you hog the class! You are, first of all, not the only person in the room. We don't congregate in our awful basement classroom to hear your view on everything from the Black Eyed Peas to why you think free verse is "overrated and overwritten." And, you aren't my co-teacher! You don't have to nod your painfully huge head every time I say something, and then jump in with an inane aside every time someone in class dares to speak. The rest of the class hates you. Wait, I'll bet every student in every one of your classes hates you. I do know that I hate you.

Oh, and your essays suck.

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

Where People Are Wrong.

In reply to a number of missives, no, professors don't rate students by giving grades. The grades I give students are entirely about the work they do in my class. And yes, of course there are some students I 'like' more than others, but don't you imagine that any professional can separate the personal and the professional?

Some of my favorite students have been among my weakest, in part because I see myself in them at that age. They work hard, but the work is barely passing. On the other hand, smart kids who've had a lot of advantages in high school come in to my class with bad work habits but a strong background. They do well on their work, despite the fact that they are annoying, grade-grubbing, and all the rest. They earn A's, despite what I actually think of them, despite how I would rate them as a student.

I prefer students who are a challenge, who question me, who push me to do a better job. Students who are mute, mellow, arrogant, or disengaged are missing the point of college, and it never fails to annoy me.

In reply to a couple of posters, I don't suppose faculty members will send in a lot of "positive" ratings. I imagine this is because professors will use this site to work out some frustration that is created by unfair and anonymous ratings of their own. Is that fair? I wasn't aware we were going for that, so perhaps not. Do I have a ton of great students? Absolutely. They don't frustrate me. They make my days better. I should just say, "Good on you," to those students every once in a while, and I hope that I do over the course of a semester.

But Rate Your Students is a blog where we come together to bark at the moon when we get sick and tired of our entire careers being reduced to whether we're "hot" or not, and where any chickenshit student can blast away anonymously with falsehoods.

Sunday, November 6, 2005

Professor Tiny Gets Busy.

Professor Tiny - hopefully an ironic moniker - sends along this flurry of ratings this morning. Tiny toils in Texas.

Hotness 1
Intelligence 1
Diligence 2
Don't let M take your class. She's dumb as a polecat and works only hard enough so as to not drop off asleep in class.

Hotness 5
Intelligence 0
Diligence 5
Get out there to the faculty fair and line up S (S for S-E-X-X-X-Y) for your next teaching adventure. She loves the bible, so you can be sure she's innocent. She tries hard, and her sweetness and lipliner make up for a brain the size of an acorn. She'll bring you cookies if you just say the word "cookie" during class. Just drop it in. "Think of these interest rates increases in terms of cookies." I did it once and her eyes lit right up. The next time she came to my office she smelled like a sexy beach tiki hut and she had a plate of steaming oatmeal raisin cookies that we took turns chewing through.

Hotness 2
Intelligence 4
Diligence 0
M is not my speed, though he has a hot girlfriend who has a class across the hall from us. He's my least favorite student because he's smart and doesn't give a damn about it. If you see him coming to your class, be prepared for heartbreak all year. He gets by even reading just half the material, but it's just a waste of time. He's a typical rich kid who has been entitled since day zero, and he'll likely inherit some paper manufacturing company or something and rule some small and lazy universe some day.

We Are Hot in Florida.

A professor of Philosophy at a large private university in Ft. Lauderdale writes to us:

You will surely be flamed by all parties if your blog ever gets big enough to get noticed. You can't prick the illusion that our dainty students and their equally dainty and entitled parents have. Mummy and Daddy believe Junior is gifted and brilliant, wise and funny, soon to be making more money than any damn teacher every dreamed of. The fact that Junior won't read, write or think is just splitting hairs. Junior is so besotted with Cuervo that he can't find his way to my class any more often than 2 times a week. And me, without tenure, without "standing," have to pass his ass on to the next level because of the endless - but subtle - pressure from every one above me at this university. It's my failure, isn't it, if I can't engage Junior. It couldn't be the glue sniffing or the iPod that is jammed deep into his brain. No, Junior's failure is mine. After all, Junior's parents pay the $18,000. The check cleared. He's safe. The only one feeling the pressure is me.

Indiana Checks in & Is a Little Naughty.

A first year professor of Math from a college in Indiana writes:

L makes me wish I wasn't married. He's so sweet and yummy and here I am with a brand new ring on my finger. When I lean against the overhead projector I can't tell if it's the bulb warming me up, or just his eyes on my ass.

Saturday, November 5, 2005

From Florida.

A tenured professor of History at a large public university in South Florida sends this along:

Won't listen. Won't talk. Won't raise hand. Won't raise voice. Ugly spirit. No books. No notes. No pens. Sloppy. Disruptive. Take out the iPod!

Friday, November 4, 2005

A California Missive.

From a tenure track professor in Economics from California:

M likes to tell me about her mother's college roommate who is a Dean at my university. She tells me so many times that I think it might be the only thing she has as ammunition.

I hate her. She doesn't do her work. She dominates her study group with talk about her weekend plans and her boyfriend. She smiles sweetly in class, then turns on the waterworks in my office after another barely earned C. All she wants to do is complain, whine, and find a back door to graduation. I'm sick of it. All I want students to do is try. It's all I ask. I just want to see that they give a damn, and that they're willing to be a part of their own educational process.

Thursday, November 3, 2005

Merciless in Ohio.

An English professor from a college in Ohio writes:

My dream is to face down baseball playing D, and tell him that I won't shed a tear for him when he blows his hose. He's never prepared for class, and he mostly shows up so he can run his mouth into the sweet ear of that sorority candy who sits next to him.

I'm expected to meet him at his own whim when he can't make my class or my office hours. I get faux-frantic calls from the Coach who thinks D might go the "show" someday, and wouldn't it be great for the college when he does.

I'd just like him to write his own paper once. Or at least crack the spine of that $40 textbook.

I'd like to smack his smug face.


As we begin, let's be clear. Rating students and professors is a gigantic waste of energy and time. But as long as continues to operate mostly unmoderated and with no real intention of limiting anonymous attacks from anyone who'd like to log in, we will operate over here on our little site.

We will rate our students here. And we will do it without compunction. Then we'll just see where we're at. We'll still be poor academics. But at least those callous and ignorant ‘customers’ of ours will know what it's like. What we believe here is that if it's little, you say it's little.”