Bernice From Buffalo Offers Her Students One Last Wake Up Call. Some Old School RYS Smackdown.

Okay, kiddies. Wake the fuck up. It is mid-October. Sleepy time is over. Here is a list of things that are no longer acceptable in this class:

• Telling me "you didn't understand." Sorry, no dice. It was fine not to understand in the first month. We were all still learning. But if you don't understand now, you're fucked. Take thesis statements, for example. If you "don't understand" thesis statements at this point, you need to seek help. And not from me. I would have been more than happy to help you with this in the beginning. Hell, I even conducted several classes on this very concept. But if you're just waking up now, you need more help than I can give. Not understanding is not an excuse anymore; it's a weakness.



• Asking me what the assignment for [insert day here] is. We have been working off of the same goddamn sheet of paper since day one. It is called a syllabus. It lists all your assignments. You have it for a reason. That reason is so that you don't annoy the living fuck out of me by asking me every day what your assignment is. USE YOUR SYLLABUS. If you've been in college this long without at least picking up this useful tidbit, I really don't hold out much hope for you.



• Asking me what your grade is. It never fails; I hand back those papers, people panic (shock! your thesis-less paper didn't score so well), and the emails come pouring in. "Could you tell me what my grade is?" "I really need to know my grade right now." Well, dear, sweet, precious, baby-doll students, fucking figure it out yourselves! See, that's why I hand things back with points on them. I'm no math whiz, but I have a suspicion that if you add the few points you've managed to scrounge up and divide by the number of possible points thus far, you'll have something approximating your grade. It is amazing what you can do all on your own if you really put that mind to it.
  


• Staring blankly at me during class. Yeah, I've really just had it with this. You're shy. You're tired. It's too early. You're sick. Well, guess what. You're a fucking college student now, and that trumps all your other little complaints. ACT LIKE A STUDENT--IT IS YOUR JOB. It has been your job for almost two months now, and let me tell you, you all are some slow-ass learners. Maybe you can't answer every question, but you sure as hell better plaster a puzzled look on your face to at least make it LOOK like you're thinking. Seems like too much of "an act" to you? Well, I've been up here for the last eight weeks putting on one hell of a one-woman show. Your turn to give a little something back.