I do enjoy Halloween, but probably not for the reasons you suspect.
I certainly do not enjoy the proliferation of teeth-rotting candy among children and those with the minds of children. The only joy that could come of this is watching the misery of children as their stomachs protest all the garbage they have funneled into their mouths. But I am not foolish enough to be around children at this time of year, or any other for that matter, so it is not an issue.
I am also not amused by the concentration of "horror" themes. Whether decorations, haunted houses, or whatever passes for scary movies these days, it is all silly nonsense. True horror, what these people would think of as "supernatural" horror, would be wholly unfamiliar to these people. Of course, these stories are never told because the people involved either are incapable of speaking, or are themselves involved in the perpetration.
No, the reason I enjoy Halloween is that it is a day that is celebrated by a large majority of college students, but it is not a national holiday. They are in the mood to party, act wild, and cut class, but I am under absolutely no obligation whatsoever to cancel class on Halloween. And so, on this day, I make sure to not only hold class, but to cover material that will most certainly be on the next test, and will not under any circumstances be repeated any other day. Furthermore, I take a bit of pleasure in making class run longer than usual. You can see them all watching the clocks and getting restless five minutes in, but the looks on their faces when the clock moves past the end of class and I haven't stopped is absolutely priceless.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Little wastes of time
Twice this week I have had students show me that they have enough energy to panic (mildly) over class, but not actually do anything about it, besides send a few emails.
First, there was this student who had barely ever shown up in class, and even gone so far as to miss our recent exam. It was beautiful. He had sent me an email the day of the test about how he couldn't be there because he had to cover a shift at his job all of a sudden. The moment I got that email I knew exactly what grade he would get in the class, assuming he didn't take the hint and drop before the deadline. I told him he could not make up the exam, and would have to take a zero on it. He emailed me saying he wanted to "talk about his grade," and asked if he could come by my office and talk. Great, another one of those annoying conversations. I'm grateful he didn't schedule a special time to come by, because he never showed up, and never followed up on his email saying he wanted to talk. I can only wonder if students like this don't drop the class because it takes a tiny bit more effort to fill out the drop form than it does to send of a terribly written two line email.
Along those lines, I never cease to be amazed at how many grammatical and spelling errors a student can manage to cram into such short messages. It almost seems to border on intentional. But that assumes they have enough presence of mind to do anything through more than pure instinct and muscle memory.
The other one is more...problematic. I had another student miss the test, but claim they had a medical emergency. Unfortunately, school policy forces me to accommodate students if they have (proven) medical excuses. In a surprise turn of events, this student has been reasonably courteous via email, and the last time we spoke they agreed to take the test after class today. They would of course take an unpleasant makeup exam, but they would still have a chance to survive the course (albeit a slim one).
But alas, they were not in class today. Nor did they seem to be around immediately after class. I am glad of that. It would have been incredibly insulting had they skipped class, but shown up afterward to take the test. And yet, later in the day, there is no communication, no information from this student. I wonder if it penetrates their thick skull that they had an exam officially scheduled and they missed it. With a paper trail established for the schedule, I have no fear of reprisal for giving them a zero on it.
One less brain dead waste of space in my classroom. The semester gets better.
First, there was this student who had barely ever shown up in class, and even gone so far as to miss our recent exam. It was beautiful. He had sent me an email the day of the test about how he couldn't be there because he had to cover a shift at his job all of a sudden. The moment I got that email I knew exactly what grade he would get in the class, assuming he didn't take the hint and drop before the deadline. I told him he could not make up the exam, and would have to take a zero on it. He emailed me saying he wanted to "talk about his grade," and asked if he could come by my office and talk. Great, another one of those annoying conversations. I'm grateful he didn't schedule a special time to come by, because he never showed up, and never followed up on his email saying he wanted to talk. I can only wonder if students like this don't drop the class because it takes a tiny bit more effort to fill out the drop form than it does to send of a terribly written two line email.
Along those lines, I never cease to be amazed at how many grammatical and spelling errors a student can manage to cram into such short messages. It almost seems to border on intentional. But that assumes they have enough presence of mind to do anything through more than pure instinct and muscle memory.
The other one is more...problematic. I had another student miss the test, but claim they had a medical emergency. Unfortunately, school policy forces me to accommodate students if they have (proven) medical excuses. In a surprise turn of events, this student has been reasonably courteous via email, and the last time we spoke they agreed to take the test after class today. They would of course take an unpleasant makeup exam, but they would still have a chance to survive the course (albeit a slim one).
But alas, they were not in class today. Nor did they seem to be around immediately after class. I am glad of that. It would have been incredibly insulting had they skipped class, but shown up afterward to take the test. And yet, later in the day, there is no communication, no information from this student. I wonder if it penetrates their thick skull that they had an exam officially scheduled and they missed it. With a paper trail established for the schedule, I have no fear of reprisal for giving them a zero on it.
One less brain dead waste of space in my classroom. The semester gets better.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
"Extra Credit"
I had hoped to avoid this situation. In a class this low level and this large, and this full of pathetic idiots, I knew there was a risk.
Plenty of students did terribly on the first exam. When I handed back the tests I assured them that there would be no miraculous extra credit, or - even worse - test corrections to save them from their own lack or preparation. A few complained, a few dropped the class, quite a number more said nothing, didn't react, and will most likely continue to quietly fail until the end of the semester. Every now and then a student will see their terrible grade and react differently.
A few days after I handed back the tests I was in my office. I was not thinking about calculus at the time. No, I was doing something far more enjoyable - preparing a lecture on analytic spaces for my advanced class. I heard a knock at my door.
A girl came in, looking like she had just stepped off a downtown street corner. Her chest looked like it was about to fall out of the very low top of her shirt, and she seemed to have to have just enough skirt to avoid arrest for indecent exposure. I don't know if she had dressed up specifically for the occasion, or if that was how she normally dressed. It's hard to tell these days where they draw the line between "casual" and "whorish." I tried to tell myself that this is an overreaction to the relaxing of dress codes that children experience when moving from high school to college, but even by those standards it seemed extreme.
She closed the door behind her, and asked to talk about the test. She grabbed a chair and pulled it around to the side of my desk, so there is nothing between the two of us. I tell her, as discussed in class, there is nothing else to be done about her grade. She had her test in her hand, and leaned over as though she wants to show it to me, but seemed to be using this motion as an excuse to expose her chest. Then she said it. She asked if there was anything we could work out, just the two of us, to help her get a good grade in the class. Anything other than homework and tests.
I'm not an idiot. I know there are plenty of professors who are willing to...indulge themselves this way. As long as it doesn't become public knowledge, no one seems to care other than the occasional bit of righteous indignation. But I have no interest. Aside from the fact that I have no interest in tarnishing my integrity by selling out grades, if someone is so willing to offer up their body when they have trouble getting something they want, I shudder to think what sort of vast ecosystem of disease lurks in their flesh.
The trouble is, someone who starts down this road and makes this proposal is likely to be equally as troublesome if denied. I had a colleague who had to step down from his position because of a sexual assault scandal. He insists, and based on my knowledge of him I believe him, that all he did was reject the advances of a student looking to improve their grade by any means. But he had made enemies in the wrong places, so the consensus was not on his side.
I have no interest in dealing with either of these outcomes, so thankfully I have a third option available to me. I looked the girl in the eye and told her, "Okay, let me show you something." She smiled in what appeared to be an attempt at being alluring and stood up straighter, thrusting her chest out before her. I mostly ignored it and pulled out a piece of paper and put it on the desk next to the two of us. I scribbled a few things on it.
"I wasn't talking about math," she said with a frown.
"I know. Let me show you this first."
"Okay. Whatever you're into." She leaned toward the paper, but also toward me, and gave me an odd look. She seemed to be trying to act alluring again. Pathetic.
I drew quickly on the paper. She looked down and got that resistant, bored look that students get when they see a board full of graphs, symbols, and equations connecting them together. All her conscious mind saw was mathematics too advanced for her to ever comprehend. She almost said something, but her voice caught in her throat. She stared at the paper. While her conscious mind could make no sense of what she saw, her subconscious saw and comprehended just enough to feel compelled to look directly at it, and then it was trapped. The lines on the page drew in her mind, and held it fast. I drew a few more lines, and her eyes widened and her jaw fell slack. I drew a few more, showing her more than a normal person should ever see, and you could almost hear her mind snap like a tendon stretched too far too fast.
I picked up the paper and held it in front of myself. Her gaze followed it, but slowly, like she wasn't fully awake. "You will leave here, and you will drop my class." She nodded slowly. "You will not bother any professor ever again for any reason." She nodded again. As I crumpled up the paper she blinked and shook her head. She didn't quite have the light in her eyes that she did a few minutes ago.
I patted her on the knee. "Thanks for coming in. You have a good day now."
"Oh...okay..." She stood up and walked out of my office. Good riddance. A troublesome mind has been made less so.
I unfolded the paper I had scribbled on and put it in my shredder. It wouldn't do to have one of my grad students, or worse still, maintenance staff, see that and hurt themselves.
Plenty of students did terribly on the first exam. When I handed back the tests I assured them that there would be no miraculous extra credit, or - even worse - test corrections to save them from their own lack or preparation. A few complained, a few dropped the class, quite a number more said nothing, didn't react, and will most likely continue to quietly fail until the end of the semester. Every now and then a student will see their terrible grade and react differently.
A few days after I handed back the tests I was in my office. I was not thinking about calculus at the time. No, I was doing something far more enjoyable - preparing a lecture on analytic spaces for my advanced class. I heard a knock at my door.
A girl came in, looking like she had just stepped off a downtown street corner. Her chest looked like it was about to fall out of the very low top of her shirt, and she seemed to have to have just enough skirt to avoid arrest for indecent exposure. I don't know if she had dressed up specifically for the occasion, or if that was how she normally dressed. It's hard to tell these days where they draw the line between "casual" and "whorish." I tried to tell myself that this is an overreaction to the relaxing of dress codes that children experience when moving from high school to college, but even by those standards it seemed extreme.
She closed the door behind her, and asked to talk about the test. She grabbed a chair and pulled it around to the side of my desk, so there is nothing between the two of us. I tell her, as discussed in class, there is nothing else to be done about her grade. She had her test in her hand, and leaned over as though she wants to show it to me, but seemed to be using this motion as an excuse to expose her chest. Then she said it. She asked if there was anything we could work out, just the two of us, to help her get a good grade in the class. Anything other than homework and tests.
I'm not an idiot. I know there are plenty of professors who are willing to...indulge themselves this way. As long as it doesn't become public knowledge, no one seems to care other than the occasional bit of righteous indignation. But I have no interest. Aside from the fact that I have no interest in tarnishing my integrity by selling out grades, if someone is so willing to offer up their body when they have trouble getting something they want, I shudder to think what sort of vast ecosystem of disease lurks in their flesh.
The trouble is, someone who starts down this road and makes this proposal is likely to be equally as troublesome if denied. I had a colleague who had to step down from his position because of a sexual assault scandal. He insists, and based on my knowledge of him I believe him, that all he did was reject the advances of a student looking to improve their grade by any means. But he had made enemies in the wrong places, so the consensus was not on his side.
I have no interest in dealing with either of these outcomes, so thankfully I have a third option available to me. I looked the girl in the eye and told her, "Okay, let me show you something." She smiled in what appeared to be an attempt at being alluring and stood up straighter, thrusting her chest out before her. I mostly ignored it and pulled out a piece of paper and put it on the desk next to the two of us. I scribbled a few things on it.
"I wasn't talking about math," she said with a frown.
"I know. Let me show you this first."
"Okay. Whatever you're into." She leaned toward the paper, but also toward me, and gave me an odd look. She seemed to be trying to act alluring again. Pathetic.
I drew quickly on the paper. She looked down and got that resistant, bored look that students get when they see a board full of graphs, symbols, and equations connecting them together. All her conscious mind saw was mathematics too advanced for her to ever comprehend. She almost said something, but her voice caught in her throat. She stared at the paper. While her conscious mind could make no sense of what she saw, her subconscious saw and comprehended just enough to feel compelled to look directly at it, and then it was trapped. The lines on the page drew in her mind, and held it fast. I drew a few more lines, and her eyes widened and her jaw fell slack. I drew a few more, showing her more than a normal person should ever see, and you could almost hear her mind snap like a tendon stretched too far too fast.
I picked up the paper and held it in front of myself. Her gaze followed it, but slowly, like she wasn't fully awake. "You will leave here, and you will drop my class." She nodded slowly. "You will not bother any professor ever again for any reason." She nodded again. As I crumpled up the paper she blinked and shook her head. She didn't quite have the light in her eyes that she did a few minutes ago.
I patted her on the knee. "Thanks for coming in. You have a good day now."
"Oh...okay..." She stood up and walked out of my office. Good riddance. A troublesome mind has been made less so.
I unfolded the paper I had scribbled on and put it in my shredder. It wouldn't do to have one of my grad students, or worse still, maintenance staff, see that and hurt themselves.
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